Speculum
by Kawaii uke27
Summary: When a case goes wrong, Dean finds himself trapped in another reality. While Sam has to figure out how to free him from the real world, Dean has to find out how to free himself from his new prison. But...prison is a strong word. Read and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm rather nervous to put this up here. Tell me honestly what you think and know that I will be eagerly awaiting your responses. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

The air was frigid and held the strong scent of moss and wet rock that seemed to seep into Dean's skin. He shivered a little, goosebumps breaking out along the skin of his arms and the nape of his neck. Water dripped onto his nose, making him sneeze then scowl in annoyance. Dean was beginning to seriously regret taking this case. His mind shot back to the previous night back in the bunker.

"Dean, I think I found something," Sam said, tossing a slightly torn newspaper onto his older brother's bed. Dean, who had been lounging with his hands behind his head, grunted as he lurched into a sitting position. "Whatcha got for me, Sammy?" he said gruffly, turning the newspaper in his hands roughly. Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, the memory foam mattress sinking a little under his weight. He watched calmly as Dean hid a yawn behind his hand.

Dean's green eyes scanned the page Sam had pointed out to him and he frowned, reading one of the headlines. ' _ **Seven missing. Police have no leads whatsoever. Public officials question government security**_.' The hunter's brows rose and he flicked a brief glance over at his younger brother. "Think it's something in our department?" Dean asked. He scanned the article quickly, taking in its contents with a mildly curious glint in his eye.

He whistled in a long tone of surprise. Sam sighed, a serious expression on his face. "What else could it be, Dean?" he said. Dean pursed his lips and slid the newspaper away from him, his downcast eyes hard with understanding. "Want to check it out?" Sam asked as they rose from the bed in nearly perfect unison. Dean didn't answer; he was too deep in thought.

"Dean?"

"Let's tell Cas where we're going,"

The corner of Sam's mouth lifted slightly in a secret smile and he nodded towards his brother. He followed Dean as they walked quickly down the long hallways of the bunker. Sunlight shone brightly across the floor, painting them with orange and red light. Sam watched Dean's expression soften the moment the angel came into view. Cas was sitting quietly at one of the tables, reading one of the many books with great intensity. "Hey, Cas, we got another case," Sam called out before Dean could say anything.

Cas turned his head a little at the sound of his voice and carefully closed the book he had been studying. "What is it you need me to do?" the angel said, his gravelly voice echoing in the large room. Dean, who had apparently taken the newspaper when Sam wasn't looking, placed it down in front of the angel and pointed to the headline. "Apparently, some dumbass tricked seven people into believing in a rumor about...a portal to paradise or something," Dean muttered, glaring at the paper. Sam leaned against one of the bookshelves nearby, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Castiel leaned closer to Dean, seemingly to get a closer look at the article. The angel's brow furrowed and he frowned as he read. "There is no such thing as a portal to paradise," he began, "The only thing that I could think could even remotely come close to being one would be the gateway to heaven." Cas shifted a little uneasily and Sam found himself looking at Dean. His brother was staring down at Castiel with barely contained affection and was giving the angel his complete attention.

 _'I don't think you realize just how obvious you are_ ,' Sam thought, shaking his head at his brother. Sam had vowed to himself that he wouldn't interfere in whatever relationship the angel and his brother had going on, but it was a bit difficult; it was like watching a soap opera where you knew the characters loved one another but neither would confess. From Sam's point of view, it was probably the most frustrating thing he'd ever experienced- one of them, anyway. Shaking his head, Sam decided to leave the subject alone. For now.

"...not quite sure of what it could be," Cas was saying, "I will look into it and see what I can find out." Dean smiled and clapped a hand on Cas' shoulder. Sam had to stifle a snort of laughter at the two engaged in another one of their moments of totally-not-gay staring. He coughed and Dean shot him a glance of slight annoyance. "Thanks, Cas. Call when you've got something," he said, patting the angel on the shoulder again before making his way over to Sam.

Castiel watched Dean walk away, an unreadable expression on his face. "Alright, Dean. Good luck, you two," was all he said before he disappeared with the sound of fluttering wings. Sam followed Dean outside, pausing to take a deep breath, the crisp and cool air of autumn filling his lungs. Dean had on foot in the Impala and the other on the leaf-littered strip of road in front of the bunker. He was looking at Sam with a curious look; after all, the taller of the two brothers was just standing motionless, eyes shut tightly.

"You stand there any longer and people might mistake you for a moose," Dean joked. Sam sent him a sarcastic laugh in response and went around to the passenger side. The doors creaked and slammed with two distinct thumps. Dean turned the key in the ignition and rubbed his hands along the steering wheel as the Impala rumbled awake. "Listen to that purr!" he crowed, laughing. Sam smiled and shook his head, turning to stare out the window as they began to drive.

"So, where to, Sammy?" Dean said, glancing over at his younger brother. Sam didn't turn away from the window. "Oneonta, Oregon. I've seen pictures and it's considered one of the most breathtaking places in America," he said. Dean snorted and reached over into his cassette box, rifling through it. "I don't care how much beauty it has. I just want to get whatever son of bitch is behind this," he said. Once he found the tape he wanted, he hummed a little and inserted it into the Impala's radio. When the first strums of twangy guitar began to play, Sam turned towards Dean, eyebrows raised. "Fortunate Son?" he said incredulously.

Dean bobbed his head to the music and, instead of answering, began singing along with Creedence Clearwater Revival. Sam scoffed yet he couldn't help but laugh. The Impala flew over the empty highway, its open windows spilling classic rock into the silence of nature. They ended up stopping at a bed and breakfast in Idaho, where Sam had found out more about the mysterious portal rumor from a pretty brunette. The apparent portal was supposedly a magical mirror that allowed someone to see whatever their hearts desired.

Castiel had ended up calling when Sam and Dean were a few hours away from Oregon. "This mirror...it could be what is known as one of what's called the fauna of mirrors. Its supposed purpose is to allow creatures from the separate dimension to enter into this one freely and without harm. I have not heard of people disappearing because of them; it allows both sides to cross over freely. I do not think these people would not return without some type of prohibition on the other side of the mirror. I will see if I can look more into this and figure out what it could mean," the angel had informed them.

So, now the two hunters were here, freezing their asses off in a shallow, yet narrow cave behind a deafening waterfall. Dean's teeth were beginning to chatter; they had had to cross through the rushing falls and were now not only soaked to the bone, but they were also wading through waist-deep water. "I'm so damn cold, I think the leather of my jacket fused to my skin. Tell me again why the hell we're here?" Dean grumbled as he splashed forward. Sam tucked a lock of wet hair behind his ear and shrugged, his jacket sticking to his arms awkwardly.

"Because seven innocent people are missing, Dean," Sam said, ducking to avoid some low hanging moss. Despite the crappy conditions, the place truly was as beautiful as predicted. Wedged between great moss-covered rocks, a magnificent waterfall flowed gracefully down the jagged crevices into a shallow river that was dotted with fallen leaves. Sam and Dean had found the cave behind the falls and were currently making their way along the dark, cool, mossy cave. The beams of their flashlights made the cave walls, glistening with moisture, shine brilliantly.

"You know, even though we're on a case, this isn't too bad," Sam commented. Dean hummed in agreement, nearly tripping over a rather large rock. The cave narrowed then opened up into an enormous cavern. Sam gawked, mouth dropped open in awe, as he took in the shimmering, uniquely shaped walls of the space. Bits of sunlight broke through small openings in the rocks, illuminating the moss and algae covered walls. It reflected off of the clear water, causing wavy light to dance along the rocks' overcasting shadows. In the center of the cavern was a circle of glossy clover covered land, water rippling around it softly.

A tall mirror stood out like a sore thumb on top of the land, its shiny surface flecked with water droplets. Its frame seemed to be engraved with what appeared to be Chinese symbols. Sam made a mental note to analyze them further. The siblings shared a look and Dean's impressed whistle echoed loudly through the cave. "Son of a bitch wasn't kidding," he said. He and Sam each drew their guns and cautiously approached the mirror. Silently, Sam flicked his head a little to the side, indicating to Dean to circle around the other side. Nodding, Dean moved as quietly as he could through the water onto the patch of land. The mirror seemed to stare at the hunters with cold bemusement.

After a few moments of inactivity, Dean stopped a few feet from the mirror. He looked up at the massive frame and raised an eyebrow. Sam stood to the side of the mirror, trying to memorize all of the symbols. Although there was no visible threat, Sam still felt an uneasy feeling deep in his gut. Dean winked at his reflection in the mirror and fixed his hair. He frowned and let his hands fall to his sides.

"I don't get it, Sammy. It's just a mirror,"

"I don't know. Something isn't right, Dean,"

Neither of the two brothers noticed the dark shape looming up behind Dean. The hunter took another step forward, staring at his reflection in the mirror. "What do you see?" Sam asked. He stood a small step to the side so only his brother's reflection blinked back at them. Dean lowered his gun a little and his usual smirk curled up his lips. "I'm standing next to Dumbledore. I've won the House Cup," Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes and was about to take a step forward when he finally noticed just how large his brother's shadow had become. "Dean, there's something behind you!" he shouted.

Dean whirled around, but he was too late. A terrible wind swirled harshly through the cave as the figure howled, throwing Dean backwards. Dean flailed, losing his grip on his gun. It flew into the water with a splash. Sam watched helplessly as Dean vanished into the mirror's surface. The last thing Dean heard was Sam yelling his name before everything was silenced. He felt as though he were falling and floating all at the same time. He refused to open his eyes out of fear of seeing just how high he was; he had a terrible fear of flying. Abruptly, his stomach dropped and Dean hit the ground hard, crashing with a loud clatter.

Groaning, Dean rolled over on his back and put his hand to his forehead. "Sammy?" he whispered. There was no answer. He heard the faint barking of a dog and what sounded like police sirens. Dean felt drops of liquid hit his face and realized, with a jolt, that it was raining- hard. Dean sighed and was about start using every curse word in his vocabulary when he heard a small noise. If he hadn't been lying still, Dean most likely would not have heard it. It sounded like the shuffling of feet of someone hesitant to approach. Dean forced his eyes open and twisted halfway around, his side pressed against the ground with one hand supporting himself.

Dean paused, his eyes locking on a pair of scruffy converse standing a few feet away. Thunder boomed loudly, shaking Dean from the daze he'd been in. He slowly looked up, taking in the dark jeans and rain-splattered hoodie of the stranger in front of him. It was when Dean saw the person's face that the hunter froze completely. A pair of bright blue eyes stared down at him, blazing with concern. "Are you alright?" the person asked softly. It sounded younger and less gravelly than normal, but there was no mistaking that voice.

 _Cas_.

A/N: So? What do you think? Should I continue? Alice Through the Looking Glass inspired this; although, the story isn't based on the movie's story-line. Please, let me know if it's worth posting the second chapter.


	2. Introductions Suck

A/N: So, here is the second chapter. Thank you for the reviews and messages. You're very sweet. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

"Sir?"

Dean gulped, still staring at what appeared to be a younger version of Castiel. A younger, human, Castiel to be exact. Although, there were a few things about this one that were different. This Cas, for starters, wasn't wearing the angel's signature trench coat, just a raggedy old black hoodie with Metallica written in white lettering on its front. Truth be told, he looked like everyone else. He was even slumping a little, instead of his other counterpart's rigidly straight posture. "I'm, uh, I'm fine. I just-ouch!" Dean began as he got to his feet. A sharp twinge shot up the hunter's right leg with such ferocity it caused his balance to wobble. Dean stumbled to the side, his shoulder slamming into the brick building next to him.

A hand gripped at Dean's other shoulder, steadying him and squeezing in concern. Ironically, Cas' hand was in the same place where the real one had branded him all those years ago. "Thanks," Dean muttered, "I think I hurt my leg on something." The human Cas made a small noise of sympathy in the back of his throat. Their eyes met once again, but this time, lightning flashed and illuminated the cramped alleyway. Now in the light, Dean could see the rain running in rivulets down Cas' face. His long lashes were wet and his blue eyes stared into his with blazing intensity. Dean felt an odd longing for the angel he knew and loved.

Realizing that he was staring, Dean blinked and grinned apologetically. Cas' eyes widened to resemble saucers and he choked out a strangled gasp, stumbling backwards with his hand covering his mouth. Startled, Dean raised an eyebrow; Castiel was acting as though he had just seen a ghost. ' _What the hell? What did I do?_ ' Dean thought in confusion. Thunder rumbled overhead louder than before. Dean wasn't focusing on the weather, though; he was watching the suddenly terrified Cas, who had been fine just a moment ago. The shorter man glanced away, eyes wild, and took in a couple of deep breaths. "Are you okay? Didn't mean to spook you," Dean said.

When Cas let out a whimper, Dean's heart clenched. He reached out a hand to try and comfort the shaking man, but Cas flinched. He felt a tiny stab of guilt at the frightened expression on Cas' face. After a few moments, Castiel seemed to compose himself, whispering something inaudible under his breath. "Do you have anyone that you can call? Family or something?" Cas said, looking back at Dean. The hunter opened his mouth then closed it, still confused; wait, was there an edge to this Cas' voice? Dean shook his head and glanced up at the black clouds that blanketed the sky.

"I have a younger brother, but I don't think I can reach him from here," he heard himself saying. Cas nodded and glanced over at the entrance to the alleyway with a cautious, guarded expression. Dean's hunter instincts kicked in and he tensed, taking in his surroundings. The portal had dropped him into a large pile of dirty garbage bags in the middle of a dark and smoky alleyway. A black dumpster sat against one of the brick buildings, filled to its brim with garbage. Leaning against it, a stack of grimy cardboard boxes lay crumpled with a few broken bottles sprinkled beside it.

There were a few doors along the alley, but most of them looked like they were locked. For good reason, too. Dean's eyes trailed up the brick walls, taking in the graffiti and blackened soot covered areas. He assumed, judging from the blinking neon sign above their heads and the cars lining the street in front of them, that he and Cas were in some kind of city. Though, there was something a bit off about the atmosphere. Trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in his stomach, Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sprinkling drops of water on his face. "Where am I?" he asked.

Cas seemed genuinely surprised by Dean's question and his brow scrunched up in confusion. "You don't know? Did you...did you hit your head or something?" he asked. Dean mimicked Cas' frown and looked around again. Nothing about this place was familiar to him. Cas seemed to understand. "You're in Portland, Oregon. In a pretty bashed up part of town, I might add," he said, tilting his head.

Dean felt a small flutter in his chest. ' _Oh hell no, don't start with that crap. I'm not getting warm and fuzzy chick feelings for Cas,_ ' Dean growled at his heart. After he understood what he was doing, he shook his head to clear it and rubbed at a small bump near his temple. "I must have hit my head, like you said, cause I don't remember being in Portland," Dean said. His mind was reeling; he couldn't understand how he could be so calm and at ease. Maybe it was because it was Castiel in front of him.

Yet, there was something about this version of the angel that was making Dean's heart act like it would around a hot chick. ' _Weird,'_ he thought. At the sound of Cas clearing his throat, Dean looked up expectantly. Cas had an eyebrow raised and a small frown on his face. _'He looks so much like the real one. How can I tell them apart?'_ Dean thought. Cas ducked his head shyly and scratched at his hair for a moment, avoiding Dean's gaze. He looked as though he was contemplating something.

Without warning, Cas grinned as brightly as the sun. "Well, if you have nowhere to go, you're always welcome to crash with me. My apartment isn't that big, but I could figure something out," he said cheerfully. Dean almost laughed out loud; maybe there was a way to differentiate between them. However, Dean Winchester was no fool. He shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. "No offense, uh, stranger," Dean began carefully, "but I have no clue who you are or what you're all about. How can I trust you?"

The hunter wasn't lying; he didn't know _**this**_ Castiel. The shorter man's sunny grin faded, replaced with an almost sheepish look, and he hummed a bit in agreement. He even gave a small chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders. "I guess you're right," Cas said with a hint of a laugh in his voice. Suddenly, Dean was shoved to the wall with a gun pressed under his chin, aimed towards his brain. His skull struck the brick wall hard enough to cause the hunter to see stars.

"Then again, I don't know you either, _stranger_ ," Cas continued coldly, "So, why don't you tell me why you're really here, hmm? Better start explaining fast or I might let my finger slip and end up blowing your freaking brains out." Dean stiffened and held his hands up in surrender. He had not been expecting that and he mentally cursed himself for letting his guard down. Not that he could have done anything; he had lost his gun in his dimension.

"Look, I woke up in the trash and found myself here. That's it. I'm not plotting anything, so put the gun d-!" Dean said, cutting off as the gun was pressed harder against him. Gone was the concerned and hesitant Castiel- now Dean was faced with the furious cold gaze of an avenging angel. Dean frowned; this Castiel wasn't an angel, yet he still harbored the frightening, smoldering gaze that the real Cas possessed. Though, with the real Cas, Dean could easily make a joke or say something to calm him down; he didn't know anything about this Castiel.

"If you honestly think that I'll believe that, you're more dense than I thought. Now, I'm going to ask you again, why the hell are you here?" Cas said. Dean rolled his eyes and grunted a little as Cas shoved the gun harder under his chin. "Start talking, shifter," Cas growled. Dean's face contorted into a look of pure and utter befuddlement. Cas seemed to notice and slightly released some of the pressure of the gun. Dean fought the urge to cough; the way the gun was positioned, it was right under his tongue. If it hadn't been attached, Dean was sure that he would have ended up swallowing it.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not a shapeshifter. I'm a hunter," Dean managed to say. Bewildered, Cas took a few quick steps back, ignoring Dean rubbing the spot the gun had been. ' _Well, this is a great first meeting,'_ Dean thought. The other man shook his dark hair out of his eyes and reached into his hoodie pocket. Dean coughed a little then flinched as a bright flash blinded him.

Crying out, the hunter rubbed at his eyes with a scowl of annoyance. "What was that?!" he growled. Cas was staring at his cellphone, his face ghostly pale. He seemed almost desperate to find something wrong with the photo he took of the hunter in front of him. His blue eyes flicked over the screen and he swallowed hard. After a few long minutes, he slowly looked back up at Dean. "Th-this can't...you couldn't possibly be...," he choked. He began to shake and an expression of anguish and fear scrunched up his face. "Wh-who are you?" he rasped.

Dean was taken aback by the tremble in Cas' voice. He didn't know what to do and just stood there awkwardly staring at the other man. "Who are you?!" Cas shouted furiously, aiming the gun at Dean's chest. Hot and angry tears were streaming down his cheeks and his hand shook violently. Dean had never been more confused in his entire life. "Okay, first you have to calm down," Dean said, taking a small step forward. The gun clicked as Cas pulled back the barrel. Instincts kicking into hyper-drive, Dean immediately halted, eyes fixated on the gun. "Do not come near me. I will shoot you without hesitating," Cas said flatly. Dean's eyes flicked back up to Cas and he gushed out a harsh breath; Cas was completely serious. Cas' eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Are you a demon?"

"Do I look like a demon?"

Castiel stared at him for a long, tense moment then slightly shook his head. Dean sighed and tried to wrap his head around his current situation. He was being held at gun-point by the human version of his best friend, who wasn't really his best friend, but looked exactly like him and he was being threatened by the same person. ' _What in the actual hell is this place? What sort of dimension did I end up in?'_ Dean thought in bewilderment. He realized that Cas was waiting for him to speak and took in a deep breath. He let it out slowly and even quirked his lips up in what he hoped was a friendly smile. Cas did not look convinced and tightened his grip on the gun.

"My name is Dean Winchester. I'm a hunter- a human hunter. I told the truth when I said I just woke up here. I had no idea that I was in this part of Oregon, I swear," Dean said slowly. He had his hands up in a peaceful gesture. He glanced from Cas the gun then back again. Cas' lower lip trembled and his hood fell back, revealing his slightly long, messy black hair. It hung in wet locks over his eyes and curled under his ears, dripping water down his neck. Now that Dean was paying attention, he noticed that Cas was wearing a silver ring on his left hand. It looked vaguely familiar. He also noticed that the gun in Cas' hand looked a lot like the one Dean had brought with him on the case. The only difference that Dean could see was two initials engraved on its side: C.W.

"You can't be Dean Winchester," Cas said shakily. Dean focused back on the other man's blue gaze once more. The rain had lightened a bit and Dean blinked water out of his eyes. "What do you mean I can't be Dean Winchester? Why not?" Dean said incredulously. He had to bit back the comment that it was the only name he had after remembering his different various alias'. Castiel heaved a shaky sigh and lowered his gun. Though relieved, Dean refused to let his guard down; there was no way in hell he would make that mistake again. Cas lowered his eyes to the road and stared silently at it for a moment, an expression of defeat and torment contorting his features.

About five minutes passed before Cas finally met Dean's green eyes coldly. He swallowed hard and brought the gun back up. It wasn't shaking this time. A deadly glint was in Cas' eyes as he stared at the hunter in front of him. Dean's eyes widened and a rush of fear sent the hairs on the nape of his neck standing on end.

"You can't be him...because Dean Winchester is dead."

A/N: Okay, so I hope this chapter is better than the first one. Yes? No? Let me know please. :3 I've got the third chapter in the works as I type, so be patient. Thank you!


	3. Son of a B-

A/N: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you all like it! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

The soft tapping of rain on asphalt and the occasional rumble of thunder were the only sounds in the alleyway. Dean and Cas were locked in a stare-down, green to blue, shocked to fatal. Unable to comprehend what Castiel had just said, Dean chuckled a little in disbelief. Cas' grip tightened further on the gun, his knuckles beginning to turn white. "Don't you _**dare**_ laugh," he growled. Before Dean could reply, there was an eerie giggle that echoed through the alleyway. Cas' face paled and his eyes widened. "Oh...shit!" he yelled, his eyes searching wildly for an escape.

Dean, his entire body tense, whirled around and spotted an odd figure standing on the hood of what looked like an SUV. Lightning flashed, illuminating the monster's upside down face and backwards feet. "You have got to be kidding me," Dean muttered. The hunter was abruptly yanked by the arm and he found himself sprinting down the opposite end of the alleyway, Cas' hand clinging to Dean's jacket in a death-grip. "What is that thing?" Dean shouted as more howls broke through the silence of the night.

Cas didn't answer and kept running, his converse slapping furiously on the wet pavement. "This way! Hurry!" he said, practically dragging Dean around a corner. Dean almost slipped and stumbled back into the run. The hunter within was screaming at Dean to turn around and fight, but he knew that he had no weapon. Besides, one look at that fugly thing and even Dean could tell that his fists would be like annoying mosquitoes. The two raced down the streets as fast as they possibly could, but, judging from the inhumanly rapid tapping behind them, the monster was gaining on them. Dean shuddered; he did _**not**_ want to see what that thing looked like while running.

"Where the hell are we going?" Dean said as Cas narrowly avoided a low hanging sign. Again, Cas didn't answer. Dean wanted to roar in frustration; the jackass was choosing now of all times to act like the angel? There was the sound of rushing wind then a tremendous boom came from behind them. The impact of whatever hit the road sent the two hunters flying forwards, each skidding against the concrete. Immediately, they turned and, if Dean hadn't been a hunter for most of his life, he would have shit his pants.

The monster in front of them was roughly about the size of a grown human man and was bent at an awkward angle. Its skin was the color of dried blood and it stared at Dean and Cas with empty eyes. "Dude, you look like the Grudge on fucking steroids," Dean quipped, shaking like a leaf. Cas pulled Dean to his feet and shoved the hunter behind him protectively. Surprised, Dean watched as the monster grinned maliciously, blood dripping from its teeth. "There is a building hidden behind an old grocery store down the block. I want you to run there as quickly as you can and find a man named Sam. Tell him where I am and that there's another Abarimon," Cas barked, his eyes never leaving the monster.

Dean felt a flare of indigence and stubbornly stood still. "There is no way I'm leaving you with this thing. It'll kill you, Cas," he said without thinking. Cas stiffened for a moment then uttered a low growl of annoyance. "Get your ass moving, damn you. I still haven't forgotten what you are, you fake. Either start running or I'll let 'ol Grudgey here have a taste of you," he said. Spinning on his heel, Dean ran. He didn't know if it was because of the monster eyeing him with its creepy, bulging white eyes or the dangerous note in Castiel's voice. Either way, Dean wasn't going to stick around any longer than he had to.

As he was running, Dean found himself looking back at Cas, worried. Castiel was circling the monster, a broad grin on his face and his gun held tightly in his hand. "Come on, ugly! I've had one hell of a day and you're just in time for my breaking point!" he shouted. Dean felt a laugh bubble in his chest and smiled. Focusing on his task, Dean spotted the grocery store. There were several small cat-like creatures lounging about in the parking lot. When Dean approached, they all shot up on their feet and swarmed towards him in a chorus of high-pitched noise of panic.

Dean ended up kicking most of them out of the way and barreled through the fleeing swarm. His skin burned and stung with what felt like a thousand tiny scratch marks. ' _Great, just what I needed,'_ Dean thought. After Dean fought through a massive tangle of sharp brambles and ivy vines, Dean discovered a run-down house nestled under two willow trees. Dean rushed towards it, eager to see what this dimension's Sam looked like. As soon as the hunter reached the door, it swung open and there, in the doorway, stood Sam. He held a machete in one hand and his gun in the other.

"Holy crap, you need a haircut," was the first thing Dean blurted. This Sam was just as tall as the real one, but his hair went down past his shoulder blades and hung just above his collarbone in the front. A bushy beard barely covered a long, ugly scar that ran up the right side of Sam's jaw, stopping just below his temple. He wore a brown wool jacket and a grey shirt with Einstein's face on it. A pair of baggy, ripped jeans covered his long legs and his sneakers were just like the ones that the real Sam wore except red.

Dean didn't get a chance to say another word for Sam had him on the ground, knees pinning his hands to the grass, and the sharp edge of the machete pressed against his throat. Cold water seeped into the fabric of Dean's jeans, indicating that Sam had managed to throw Dean down into the only puddle in the whole area. Of course he did. "Who are you and why do you look my brother?" Sam snarled. His voice was deeper and more raspy than the Sam that Dean knew. Rolling his eyes, Dean snorted out an exasperated huff of annoyance; he just couldn't catch a break with these people.

"Look, I can explain everything later, but right now-,"

"Sam! I need your assistance at the moment!"

Dean and Sam both looked up as Cas came hurtling across the parking lot, shooting expertly at the monster behind him. "This isn't over, shifter," Sam growled. With a fierce grunt, Sam shoved himself off of Dean and hurried to Cas' aid. "Oh, yeah, I'll just lay here. Don't mind me," Dean muttered as he got to his feet. Looking around, Dean noticed that there was an excavator that had crashed into one of the walls of the grocery store. Reminding himself to question that later, Dean ran over to one of the trees leaning against the crumbling store wall. A sharp pain ran up his leg and, wincing, Dean looked down and finally spotted the dark stain creeping up his pant leg. "Shit. It turns out I did mess up my leg, after all. Perfect," he mumbled as he scaled the tree.

On the roof, Dean carefully picked his way through the rubble and tree limbs, finding the excavator's bucket wedged into the plaster. Ignoring the pain in his calf, Dean jumped and grabbed onto the machine, swinging down into the cab. He stared at the various controls, panicking for a moment. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered as he flipped a random switch. Nothing happened. He heard yells and the howls of pain from outside and clenched his jaw determinedly. He randomly pressed buttons, flipped switches, and turned a small silver key. The machine abruptly roared to life, nearly giving Dean what could have been his second heart attack.

When Dean pulled down one of the levers, the arm of the machine swung upwards, slamming into what was left of the ceiling. He hit another button and the excavator jerked forwards then backwards. ' _I'm going to give myself whiplash if I don't figure out how to work this thing,'_ Dean groaned internally. Frustrated, Dean slammed his hand down, hitting a red flashing button. An alarm blared through the rumble of the engine and Dean's eyes widened. "Son of a b-," was all he managed to say before the excavator went crazy. Roaring, the machine burst forward, sending Dean flying backwards out of the back window.

He rolled onto the pavement, glass shards sticking out of his skin, and lifted his head. The machine was charging at full speed towards the monster and the two hunters. "Sam! Cas! Watch out!" Dean shouted, trying to get to his feet. His leg refused to cooperate and he slumped to the ground again, wincing as glass cut into his skin. Thankfully, Cas and Sam seemed to have heard Dean over the screaming of the berserked excavator and the terrified howling of the monster. They leapt out of the way just in time as the machine crashed into the monster. It clawed at the cab, the arm of the machine slamming against its neck. The monster's backwards feet got caught under the shoe of the machine.

Dean had to look away from the gruesome sight, but he could still hear the crunching of bones and gurgling howls of the monster. After the machine had done its dirty work, it ironically decided to run out of gas and powered down. "How convenient," Dean muttered, gripping at his now very bloody leg. He heard running footsteps coming towards him and braced himself for another knife or gun to his throat. When nothing happened, Dean peeked open an eye. Cas and Sam were staring down at him, each with a different expression. Sam seemed like he was about to laugh, but he still had his guard up and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Cas, on the other hand, had an unreadable look on his face that made Dean's stomach twist.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked. Dean hadn't realized that he had been staring at Cas until he had to tear his eyes away to look at Sam. Or, at least, he tried to look at Sam. Darkness edged his vision and images blurred and spun disoriently in front of him. Sam seemed alarmed and reached out a hand to help. Dean couldn't hold himself up anymore and the last thing he saw was the pavement rushing towards him.

While Dean was killing mirror monsters, Sam- the real Sam Winchester- was panicking. After Dean had vanished into the mirror, Sam had frantically shot at the shadow creature with rock salt. It only seemed to irritate the being and it fled into the mirror's surface after Sam had chased it around the cavern for about an hour. Sam shouted and cursed and pounded at the mirror with his fists, but nothing happened. He had just slumped to his knees, clovers brushing against his jeans, when his cellphone rang. Without lifting his head, Sam answered.

"Hello?"

"Sam, I tried Dean's cell, but this lady tells me that his phone has no service. Are you two al-?"

"He's gone, Cas,"

The line went silent. The phone slowly slipped from Sam's loose grip and landed in the clovers with a soft thud. Sam pressed his forehead against the mirror's surface and clenched his fists on his thighs. There was the sound of fluttering wings and suddenly Cas was there. The angel knelt beside Sam and gripped him by the shoulders, shaking him. "What happened?" Cas growled. Sam could hear the intense worry underlying the anger in Cas' voice. He knew that the angel only had good intentions, but, in that moment, Sam just wanted to have his brother back. Biting his lip, Sam slammed a fist against the mirror, causing it to shudder.

Cas stopped shaking Sam and let go of him, hands trembling. He glared at the mirror then scrunched his face up in confusion. "This is...this is not what I had expected," Cas muttered. Sam jerked his head up, surprised. Castiel, frowning, circled the mirror, scanning the Chinese symbols. He ran his fingers over the frame and traced one of the symbols. His frown deepened. Sam scrambled to his feet and stood beside Cas.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there any way you could take a photo of these symbols?"

Confused, Sam nodded and picked up his cellphone out of the clovers. Wiping away some of the dirt, Sam began snapping pictures of the Chinese symbols that were engraved on the mirror's frame. Cas, however, was staring intently at his reflection. The bottom of his trench coat brushed against the tops of the clovers. There was an unusual ache in his heart that grew the longer he stared at the shiny glass. It almost felt as though he was staring at someone, rather than something. Castiel tilted his head and squinted at his reflection in confusion; it seemed to be...rippling? It was like something had disrupted its smooth surface.

Shaking his head, Cas moved away from the mirror. An overwhelming sense of loss, rage, and desperation filled Castiel and he wanted to bolt right back to the mirror. He found this troubling, seeing as angels weren't meant to be able to feel anything. "Let us go see what we can find out about this so-called mirror, Sam," Cas said in an attempt to distract himself. Sam nodded and slipped his phone into his pocket. He splashed into the water and, after a moment of searching, found Dean's fallen gun.

He shook water from it and tucked it into the back of his jeans. He looked up to see Cas gazing at the mirror longingly and the angel's hands clenched into fists. "Cas?" Sam called out softly. Cas jerked, as though startled, and he quickly hurried over to Sam, his feet sending water sloshing everywhere. The angel placed a hand on Sam's shoulder then, after a feeling of weightlessness, Sam opened his eyes to find himself back in the bunker. When he went to speak, Cas held up a hand. "The Impala is outside. Don't worry," he grumbled, practically stalking his way over to the bookshelf.

Sam frowned; Castiel was suddenly very grumpy and seemed agitated. He noticed that Cas kept twitching his fingers and his eyes shifted anxiously. He was acting as though he missed something very important and he wanted to get back to it desperately. Before Sam could react, Cas was furiously ripping books from their shelves and flipping through them with blinding speed. "Cas...Cas! Stop, hey, you're going to rip them," Sam said. He crossed the room in a few strides and snatched a book from the angel's hands. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're acting weird," Sam said.

Castiel's eyes flashed and Sam was pinned to a nearby table before he could blink. When Sam gasped out a pained groan, Cas seemed to snap out of the trance he had been in. Releasing Sam's throat, he took a few steps back, fear and guilt washing over him. "I...I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know what came over me," he said quietly. Cas ducked his head and clenched his fists. Sam coughed and slowly sat up. The gears in his mind were turning overtime and he picked up one of the fallen books. Eyes narrowed in concentration, Sam flipped through the pages of the somewhat dusty book.

"Sam?"

"Don't worry about it, Cas. Keep looking,"

Cas lowered his eyes to the floor and vanished with the flutter of wings. Sam could hear him shuffling around the other side of the room. Sam sat down at one of the desks and placed the big book down in front of him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the pages of the book fluttering softly. He briefly looked up at the sound of Cas dropping a few books to the floor and smiled as the angel scrambled to pick them back up, muttering apologies to them. Sam felt his heart clench and realized that the bunker was too empty without his brother there. Sure, Cas was here, but it just wasn't the same.

"I'll get you out of there soon, Dean. Just hang in there a bit longer. For me and Cas both."

A/N: I really love how this story is going and I'm so happy so many have taken a liking to it. ^-^ I'll try to update sooner, but thanks for being so patient with me.


	4. Look-A-Likes Are Emotionally Draining

A/N: The problem with writing is that, as the author, you want to quickly write down what you want to happen all at once, but you have to fit it all into a story line. *sigh* Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Dean could hear muffled voices through the thick fog in his head. His whole body ached; he felt like he had gotten thrown out of a moving vehicle. Oh, wait. Dean groaned as he lifted his heavy lids to peer around the shabby room and the voices stopped. "It's about damn time you woke up, shifter. I still need to interrogate you," Sam said. To Dean, it sounded like everything was underwater. Sam seemed to take notice to his predicament and held out a can of beer. If Dean could laugh without feeling like he'd just broken all of his ribs, he would have.

He took a sip of the cold beer and sighed in contentment as the liquid soothed his throat. "Why did you give him a beer?" Cas muttered to Sam. Dean sent him a look of annoyance and set the beer down on the coffee table. He heard the click of a gun being loaded and felt a rush of anger. "Oh, for fuck's sake, put the damn gun away and let me explain, will you?" Dean snapped. Cas and Sam both looked at one another in shock. Sam sheepishly unloaded the gun and placed it down on the table. Castiel narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. He had changed out of his Metallica hoodie and was wearing a grey t-shirt with AC/DC printed in bold red letters on the front. Dean frowned; he had the exact same shirt.

"Well? Are you going to explain or are you just going to sit there?" Sam said. He didn't sound hostile, but he did have an edge to his tone. Dean sighed and sat up, grunting as the action tugged at his ribs painfully. A flash of white caught his eye, Dean spotted a bandage winding up his calf. He realized that he was wearing black shorts and a black t-shirt. Before Dean could begin to freak out, Sam stepped in. "Your clothes are being washed. They were covered in blood and glass," he explained. Dean only slightly relaxed. "Did you do this, too?" he asked gesturing to the bandage.

Before Sam could speak, Cas shoved himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against and walked out of the room, his jaw clenched. Dean watched him go with a confused look. Sam sighed which brought the hunter's attention to him. "He felt bad for you. He patched you up and gave you some of...," Sam trailed off then cleared his throat, "He gave you some spare clothes. Though, it just about killed him to do so." Dean looked down at the clothes he was wearing. His eyes widened as he recognized them. "These are m- I mean, Dean's clothes, aren't they?" Dean said. Sam stared at him for a long moment then slowly nodded.

Dean lowered his eyes and scratched at the back of his head; he didn't know what to say. "If you're not a shapeshifter, then what are you?" Sam asked gruffly. Dean heaved a exasperated sigh. "I'm a human hunter, just like you. My name really is Dean Winchester, but I'm not the one you know," he explained. When Sam looked at him blankly, Dean realized that he would have to tell him everything. He shifted against the back of the sofa he was laying on and grabbed the beer from the coffee table. "I have a younger brother named Sam, too, and he and I were on a case together in Oneonta. We were investigating what is called a fauna of mirrors. It basically is a gateway between dimensions. Seven people had gone missing because of it.

"We were trying to figure out what was so special about it and something from the mirror shoved me through. I ended up here in...Portland," Dean said feebly. Even he could hear how fake his story sounded. Sam, who had been listening intently, was staring at the floor, brows furrowed in thought. Dean awkwardly picked at the tab of the beer can and found himself wondering over what had happened in this dimension. From what he had gathered, something big went down that caused a bunch of strange monsters to appear and take over; he hadn't seen any other humans besides Cas, Sam, and himself. "If you're from a different dimension," Sam said interrupting Dean's thoughts, "then why choose here?"

Dean frowned in confusion; what was Sam even talking about? Before Dean could speak, Sam plucked a book from one of the dusty bookshelves and blew dust from its cover. Licking his thumb, Sam flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. He handed the open book to Dean and gestured with the back of his hand, indicating to Dean to read the page. "It says that the fauna of mirrors are magical beings- creatures that wreck havoc on people. From what you described, it doesn't make sense. I think what you were dealing with wasn't the fauna of mirrors at all, but rather a Dybbuk," Sam explained.

Dean's brows shot up in surprise. "A Jewish demon?" he said incredulously. Sam nodded gravely and took the book away. He flipped to another page and ran his finger along the paper, mumbling under his breath as he read. "It may be a demon, but it is really some broken soul that is trying to find a way to support itself, while causing pandemonium in the process. But what I don't understand is why it chose a mirror to latch onto and why it put you here," Sam said, scratching at his hair. Dean stared at the book and felt the odd gnawing feeling in his stomach again. He had first felt it when he met Cas.

"I don't think that...that this thing is a demon, Sam," he said slowly. Sam looked up at him in confusion. Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but Cas chose that moment to enter the room. Both Sam and Dean turned their heads towards him. He halted, slightly taken aback by the sudden attention of both hunters, and tossed a small white bottle over to Dean. Dean caught it with a clatter and turned it over in his hand. His eyebrows flicked up in surprise.

"Aspirin?"

"You get headaches whenever you lose blood,"

Dean felt his heart ache at the soft tremble to Cas' voice. The blue-eyed man avoided his gaze and walked passed Sam, patting him on the shoulder as he did. "It's late. You need to sleep," he said. Dean caught the underlying affectionate tone and smiled a little. Cas glanced behind him at Dean and caught his eye. "You, too. You'll never heal right if you don't rest," he said. Though he wasn't affectionate with his words, Dean could tell that Cas meant what he said. Dean nodded and sent the other hunter a grin. For a split second, the corner of Cas' mouth lifted just a tiny bit then he walked up the stairs. Sam stood and stretched his arms above his head.

"Well, Cas is right. We all need to sleep. You can finish explaining in the morning," he said, shrugging off his jacket. Dean found himself staring at the white crisscrossing scars that covered parts of Sam's arms. Worry fluttered in his stomach; how had he managed to get all of those? Sam caught Dean staring and glanced down at his scars. A boyish grin lit up his face and he even chuckled a little. "If you think I'm bad, you should see my brother," he said, "We used to fight side-by-side and Dean used to try to protect me from everything. It broke his heart every time I managed to earn another one of these babies. When I told him that chicks dig scars, he would just roll his eyes and tell me to be more careful."

Dean nodded, half grinning. He liked this other Dean; he took care of Sammy as best he could. Sam sighed nostalgically and hung his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. He stood there for a moment, his hand gripping the back of the chair. "It's weird...you being here," he suddenly said softy, "You look like him and talk like him and even act like him sometimes. I know that you aren't my brother, not really, but fighting with you in that parking lot...it felt like he was back, you know? It made me miss him a whole lot more, but the hurt lessened a bit." Dean swallowed hard and forced a smile on his face. "Hey, no chick flick moments," he said.

Sam stiffened a bit then choked out a laugh. He lightly hit his palm on the edge of the chair, as though he were trying to distract himself. "Right. I forgot," he said quietly. Sam turned and Dean could see the sadness in his eyes and immediately felt guilty. But Sam only smiled, wished him a good night, and climbed the steps with his head bowed. His long hair fell over his face, blocking his forlorn expression from Dean. Dean blew out a harsh breath and ran a hand through his hair. ' _That went well. Great job, Dean,'_ he thought sarcastically. He clicked off the lamp and settled down against the couch, wincing as shocks of pain jolted up his leg.

Dean woke up abruptly in the middle of the night, eyes wide and alert. "How long do you plan on staying?" Dean turned his head and saw Castiel sitting on the coffee table. Dean had to take a few moments to register what Cas had said and shook his head. "I don't know," Dean muttered in annoyance. He had a pounding headache and realized that he had never taken the aspirin. Cas didn't move and simply stared at him silently. Dean glanced over at him and had to squint a little; he couldn't see Cas very well in the dark. "What, you want me to leave just like your Dean did? Would that make you feel better?" he snapped.

The instant the words left his lips, Dean wished he could take them back. Even though it was dark, Dean still saw Cas flinch and watched helplessly as the other man stood and quickly exited the room. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips into a thin line. Today just wasn't his day. "Shit," he muttered, tossing the thin blanket Sam had given him to the side. He carefully maneuvered through the dark, following the path Cas had taken. As Dean neared the kitchen, he heard quiet sobbing. Dean winced and guilt slammed into him like a ton of bricks. He silently slipped through the entryway to the kitchen and found Cas sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest against the lower cabinets. His face was buried in his arms, which were resting on his knees.

Dean bit his lip and, despite the pain it caused in his leg, knelt down beside the upset man. "Look, Cas, I-I'm sorry. That was uncalled for and I shouldn't have said that to you. I barely know you and I just lashed out," Dean said softly. Castiel didn't say anything and just sat there quietly. Dean sighed and sat down next to Cas, his arms resting on his legs. His hands clasped together and he found himself bouncing them anxiously. He knew that he should say more, once again, he was at a loss for words. So, Dean sat without speaking, listening to Cas cry. His throat was thick and Dean stared at the ceiling, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Cas stopped crying after awhile and even lifted his head a little. He still didn't say a word to Dean. Dean found that he was alright with not talking; it saved him the embarrassment since he apparently couldn't use his words properly around Castiel. "You...," Cas began in a soft voice, "That was the third time you've called me Cas." Dean looked at him and found Cas looking at him curiously. Had it only been three times? Dean frowned, unsure of what Cas getting at. Cas wiped at his eyes with the pads of his fingers and sniffled.

"I don't recall ever telling you my name," he said. Dean froze. He was positive that he looked exactly like a deer in headlights. Cas didn't seem to be bothered by it. He just sounded curious. "Do you have a Castiel in your world?" Cas asked. Dean nodded slowly and his thoughts filled with the angel. He saw him wearing his signature trench coat and backwards tie, complete with head tilt and squinty eyes. It made his heart lurch then ache all at the same time. Dean realized that he missed his Castiel terribly. Then he snorted; Cas probably didn't even know that he was missing. The man beside Dean shifted and hummed low in his throat. "He must miss you. Him and your brother both. I'm sure they're trying to find a way to get you out of here," he said.

Dean smirked and glanced over at Cas. "Wait, does that mean you believe me?" he teased. Cas scoffed and twirled a lock of his hair with his finger absently. Dean watched the dark curl of hair and, for a split second, he longed to reach out and touch it. He shook himself; there was no way he would do that. Castiel licked his lips and sighed in defeat. "Yes, I suppose that means that I do believe your story. I mean, how else would you know my name?" he said with a forced chuckle. Dean detected a note of sadness in Cas' tone and noticed fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Surprised, Castiel turned his head toward Dean, his mouth slightly parted in a small 'oh'. He seemed to be struggling internally, as though he wanted to say something. Dean lifted his hand to scratch at his cheek and his ring caught his eye in a flash of silver. He stared at it for a moment then glanced over at the one on Cas' hand. Cas didn't seem to notice and looked away, resting his chin on his arms once more. "No...no, I'm not alright," he mumbled. Dean's attention instantly shifted back to Cas at the intense emotion in his voice. _Dean Winchester is dead_.

Dean flinched at the memory and suddenly he understood what Sam had meant by how his being there was strange. He slumped against the cabinet, slightly shocked at himself for not understanding sooner. There was still something that was missing, however. "Tell me about Dean," he said in a low voice. He spoke barely above a whisper, but Cas heard him crystal clear. He inhaled sharply then relaxed against the cabinets. A small smile tugged at his lips and he sniffed again.

"What would you like to know?"

"Everything,"

Cas seemed mildly surprised by Dean's quick response and cleared his throat. "Dean was everything you could ever love and everything you could ever hate in a person," he said. When Dean frowned, Castiel laughed softly. "He was strong, kind, compassionate, stubborn as hell, sarcastic, and he could kill anything that crossed his path. He was a surly alcoholic, he was a total dork, and he loved Sammy more than anyone in the whole world. Aside from me, that is," Cas said. He looked down at the ring on his hand and began twisting it around his finger.

Dean felt an odd feeling rising in his chest. He couldn't quite pin down what it was exactly. His chest felt as though it were about to burst and his heart seemed to be beating a mile a minute. He decided to ignore it. "It sounds like you two were close," he said. Cas scoffed and looked over at Dean like he had just said something humorous.

"Well, I should hope so. We were married for seven and a half years."

A/N: Next chapter might take a little longer because I've got a lot going on, but I promise that I will update as soon as I can. Until then, stay tuned!


	5. Opening Up

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I hope this chapter makes up for it. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Castiel, the angel of the lord, was huddled on the floor of the bunker with a book in his hands. His eyes scanned the pages, looking for something to catch his attention. He could hear Sam muttering from across the room and peered from behind the bookshelf he was leaning against. Sam hadn't moved from that desk for more than five hours.

He had his head balanced on one hand while the other hand held a page slightly up. His fingers absentmindedly pulled at his long hair, indicating that he wasn't any closer to an answer. Cas sighed and closed the book. He hadn't really been paying much interest in it anyway; he was still focused on that bizarre feeling he had had back in front of that mirror.

To Cas, it almost felt like the strength and intensity of a prayer made by none other than Dean Winchester. But that didn't make any sense. Dean was within the mirror- in an entirely different universe. There was no way that Castiel would be able to reach him, regardless of being an angel. Yet...there was something familiar about the feeling that was driving Cas mad.

 _Cas._

Castiel sat up straight, heart pounding. That was Dean's voice. It had been faint- even with his angelic hearing it was nearly inaudible- but he heard it nonetheless. Cas stood, his senses on high alert. Sam didn't seem to notice, much to the angel's relief; he wasn't sure how Sammy would react to his sudden behavior. He nearly tripped over the stack of books in front of him and steadied himself, his hands splayed out to maintain balance.

Castiel realized that he needed to calm down and took in a deep breath. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, trying to pinpoint Dean's voice again. Cas felt it again, the slightest tug at his heart. It felt as though the air had been punched from his lungs; he was breathless with joy. He had found Dean. Focusing on the tug, Cas thought of the first thing that came to mind. The moment he did so, he was suddenly overcome by dizziness. His knees were shaky and a cold sweat broke out over his skin.

Sam heard a loud crash and, for some reason, it sent a chill down his spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Cas? Cas!" he shouted, rushing over to the bookshelf the angel had been sitting behind. Castiel was passed out cold on top of a stack of heavy books. Sam turned Cas onto his back and frantically shook the angel, trying to rouse him. Cas didn't move. The angel was completely unconscious and no amount of shaking could wake him. ' _Great,'_ Sam thought sarcastically.

Sam sat back on his heels and ran a hand through his hair. "First Dean disappears, now it's Cas," he muttered, "Can this day get any worse?" He realized that, as a Winchester, that was the worst phrase he ever could have uttered. Cursing under his breath, Sam awkwardly lifted Cas up and began to make his way towards the bedrooms. In between Sam's shoulder blades, an aching twinge had steadily begun shooting bolts of discomfort down his spine. Desperate to relieve himself of the ache, Sam pushed open the first door he saw and laid Cas down on the bed.

He straightened and rolled his shoulders. After the pain faded, Sam let out a sigh of relief and glanced around. Biting his lip to refrain from laughing, Sam left Dean's room, shutting the door behind him. "He's going to be so pissed when he gets back if he finds out I let Cas sleep in his bed," Sam snickered to himself. Shaking the hair out of his eyes, Sam hurriedly made his way to his own bedroom, exhaustion finally taking its toll. Meanwhile in the library, the book Cas had been reading flipped onto its cover, exposing its pages. The pages suddenly became a blur and the only sound in the room was the rustling of moving paper. Abruptly, the pages halted and gently relaxed.

Back in the other reality, Dean felt as though he was about to short-circuit. "M-married?" he spluttered. Cas laughed, a deep throaty sort of laugh that sent a strange tingling sensation through Dean's abdomen. Dean could feel his ears heating up. He didn't know why he was so surprised; all the signs had been too obvious to ignore. "Yes, my Dean and I were married for seven and a half years," Cas said, "Oh, we made such an amazing team. Sam, Dean, and I were the ultimate trio. Nothing could stop us from getting what we wanted."

He trailed off, a miserable expression on his face. Dean sensed the sudden shift in his mood and tilted his head; he'd have made the angel proud with his impersonation. "What happened here, Cas?" he asked softly. Cas closed his eyes for a long moment then looked over at Dean with tormented pain in his gaze. Cas shuddered and wrapped his arms tighter around himself.

"This world wasn't always like this; there were no monsters hiding around every corner, no life-threatening battles, nor was there so much destruction. This city used to be filled with life and excitement. Sure, there was the occasional monster, but nothing that we couldn't handle," he said, "All that changed within a matter of minutes. About a year ago, there was this huntress who, like many during the time, wanted to live in a world without monsters.

"She claimed that she had found a way to rid the Earth of every monster imaginable- werewolf, Djinn, vampire, genie, you name it. I think she thought that it was like some sort of plague that wouldn't affect humans, only monsters. Sam found out from a friend of ours, Charlie, and he told Dean. You could imagine how he reacted."

Dean's heart jumped at Charlie's name and memories of the woman he had cared so much for started spamming his mind. Cas noticed Dean hadn't said anything and glanced over to see the hunter with his head in his hands. He put two and two together and gave a tiny gasp. "You have Charlie in your world?" he asked quietly.

Dean swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. Cas's brows furrowed as he tried to decipher Dean's reaction. "She died," Dean whispered. Cas' heart clenched and he hesitantly put a hand on the hunter's shoulder. Dean tensed up for a moment, startled by the touch, then relaxed and even leaned into Cas' hand. "I'm so sorry. Ours passed as well," Castiel murmured.

Dean shut his eyes, the ebb of hope that he could see Charlie, the woman he considered his sister, vanished with a painful jolt. He lifted his head and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "That sucks," he said his voice breaking a little, "I'm sorry for your loss." Cas tilted his head at Dean, reminding the hunter once again of the angel back home. Dean felt a tug at his heart and, even though he knew it would never reach him, Dean sent out a small prayer.

Castiel, the human, sighed and slid his hand from Dean's shoulder. "The huntress took her from us, as she did with everyone else we loved," he said bitterly. Dean looked up at him, brows slightly furrowed. Cas clenched his hands into fists and swallowed hard. "The three of us went after her in an attempt to talk some sense into her. But, by the time we got to the warehouse she was hiding in, it was too late. She had already created the virus and had it in her hand when we arrived. Dean...he tried to talk to her. He told her that it wouldn't work, that there was no way something like that could exist. The huntress laughed at him and held the vial containing the virus high above her head.

"Before any of us could stop her, she smashed it onto the floorboards. The moment it hit the ground, there was an explosion that knocked all of us to the floor. The entire world went silent then I will never forget the awful sounds that followed." Cas squeezed his eyes shut and gripped at his hair with both hands. It was almost as though he could hear whatever noises he was referring to all over again. Dean put a hand on his shoulder and he felt Cas' startled jump. When Cas' eyes opened and locked on to Dean's, the hunter could see the overwhelming amount of sadness and longing in the blue depths. "You've been through your own Hell, haven't you?" Dean whispered softly.

"You don't know the half of it," Cas whispered back. They stared at one another for a few more moments. Dean was the first to look away. "What happened after that?" he said awkwardly. Cas' shoulders slumped and he leaned his head back against the cabinet, glaring at the ceiling. "The monsters," he said, "They all swarmed from everywhere and were surrounding the warehouse in a matter of minutes. The huntress- we never knew her name- panicked and fell to her knees, sobbing that it wasn't her fault. Dean took control and managed to get her back on her feet. Sam and I were just moving forward to help out when they broke through.

The virus caused a sort of berserk mode in the monsters and turned even the most neutral of monsters against humanity. We were mobbed, each of us with some thirty or so monsters attacking us on all sides. I don't know how he did it, but somehow Dean managed to get us out. The huntress had fled, gone her own way and left us to fend for ourselves. The three of us fought as hard as we could to get through the swarm and, eventually got back to our house. Sam and I had gotten away with some gashes, bruises and a few sprained limbs, but Dean...wasn't so lucky." His voice had become thick with emotion and he pulled his knees closer, wrapping his arms around them.

"He had been attacked by more monsters than we had; he was closer to the spot the virus had broken. His..his...entire torso was ripped open by deep gashes that even dental floss stitches couldn't hope to fix. We didn't know how he had gotten back to the house, let alone run and fight with his blood pouring out. S-Sam and I had tried so h-hard to stop the bleeding. W-we even attempted a few spells, b-but nothing worked. I had to watch m-my husband die right in front of me and I was powerless to stop it! Sam had to watch his brother die and it was all because of that stupid girl," Cas sobbed, slamming his fist on his knees. He was crying like the way he had when he first recognized Dean's face.

Dean moved closer and was about to pull Cas into a hug when the shaking man flinched back. Dean clenched his jaw and leaned back; Cas' reaction had stung- badly. "P-please, don't. I know that you're only trying to h-help, but...," Cas looked up at him, his lower lip trembling, "You smell like him." Understanding dawned on Dean and he nodded, his heart snapping in half. _'You dumbass, it would have only made things worse. You're an exact replica of his dead husband. You know, the one he's crying about?'_ he snapped at himself. He felt like a total idiot and guilty that he hadn't taken that detail into consideration.

"Don't do that," Cas suddenly said. Dean frowned in confusion and raised an eyebrow. Cas cleared his throat and got to his feet. "Don't do what?" Dean asked, rising. He and Cas stood about a foot apart, facing one another with slumped shoulders and dark circles of exhaustion under their eyes. Castiel tilted his head and smiled softly. "You're beating yourself up with guilt," he said shaking his head, "There is no need for you to feel guilty. You couldn't have known that I would react that way. You were just trying to console me, which I appreciate greatly." Dean flicked his eyebrows up in surprise; was he that much of an open book?

Cas seemed to sense his thoughts and chuckled sadly. "Even though I don't know you, I _**know**_ you," he said softly. Every part of Dean's body felt heavy and his heart was like a lead weight in his chest, heavy with emotion. Cas motioned with his hand for Dean to follow him and together they walked back into the living room. Through the darkness, Dean watched Cas' outline walking in front of him. ' _I'm sorry that you had to go through so much,'_ Dean thought, _'I wish you could just have a happy life in some reality, where nothing could hurt you_.'

Cas turned toward Dean with a frown. For a split second, Dean panicked, sure that Cas had heard his thoughts. "Will you be warm enough with just that blanket?" Cas asked in concern. Dean's heart fluttered and he frustratingly shoved down his emotions; seriously, where were all these sappy feelings coming from? Dean absently nodded and was about to sit on the couch when Castiel pulled him into an embrace. It was brief and was over before he knew it, but Dean savored every second of it. "Thank you," Cas said quickly, "For...for talking with me. You're not so bad after all. You know, for a fake."

When Cas sent Dean a quick smile, the hunter huffed a laugh and shook his head. "Glad I could be of some comfort. Look, I know that me being here isn't easy for you and Sam and I'll try to get out of your hair as soon as possible. I want you to know that I wanna find a way to fix things here first," he said. Cas' eyes widened and his mouth dropped open a little in shock. Dean was frozen, realizing that he had said the words out loud rather than in his mind. Well, there was no going back now.

Castiel shook himself slightly and put a hand on Dean's arm. Goosebumps prickled on Dean's flesh at his touch. Cas didn't say anything at first; he looked at Dean as though he was trying to figure out a curious riddle. After a few minutes, he nodded slowly and squeezed the hunter's arm as a way of thanks. Dean returned the nod with his jaw clenched and Cas turned to walk away. Dean was just settling back down on the couch when Cas paused halfway up the stairs. "Goodnight...Dean," he said softly. Dean thanked his ribs for encasing his heart; he was sure it would have burst from his chest. "Goodnight, Cas," he said back.

A small quirk of a smile lifted the corner of Cas' lips and he quickly said,"Take some aspirin," before he vanished up the stairs. Dean heaved a heavy sigh, popped back the pills with a swig of beer, and covered his eyes with an arm. The other was thrown over his chest. He could feel his pulse beating rapidly against the pads of his fingers and he was sure that his cheeks were bright red. ' _I'm in bad shape. I must be sick,'_ he thought. Dean shifted a little on the couch and found that he really missed his angel. A lot. He sent another quick prayer, sending all of his concentration into it. Dean was just slipping into the unconsciousness of sleep when he jolted up.

He thought he had heard...no, it couldn't have been. Dean felt a faint tugging in his heart and a tiny frown curled down his lips. "I must've been dreaming," he mumbled, "There's no way that angel could reach me here." Deciding to ignore it for now, Dean snuggled back down with his face smashed against his pillow. Though, replaying like a record on repeat, Castiel's- Dean's Cas- response to Dean's prayer played over and over in the back of the hunter's mind.

 _I miss you_.

A/N: Thank you so, so much for being patient with me. I know it took longer than usual and I am sorry. I promise to try to keep up with the chapters from now on. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and please feel free to leave a review or PM me; I look forward to your feedback! 3


	6. Understanding

A/N: So I am really excited to post this chapter because this is where things finally start to make sense! Well, kind of. Anyways, read on, my friends! :D Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Castiel bolted awake, gasping for air. The angel gripped at his chest where his heart was pounding harder than normal. He felt as though he had just run a marathon. Cas frowned; he was unsure of what a marathon actually was, but the phrase seemed to fit the situation. He glanced around and found that he was in Dean's bedroom. A light blush warmed his cheeks as he realized that he was also lying on Dean's memory foam mattress. Cas sat up with a grunt and swung his legs over the side of the bed. A strange weightless sensation took over the angel's body and he stumbled, disoriented. Turning, Cas was shocked to find that his body was still lying on the bed.

Cas could hear whispers all around him, faint and breathy. A cold sweat ran down his body and he found himself walking out of the room. His feet moved on their own, setting him on the path to their desired destination. Castiel was too busy watching his feet and didn't realize that he was about to ram into a desk. As his lower body collided with the mahogany wood, he bent forward and slammed his chin on the corner of the desk. Groaning in pain, Cas lifted himself up on wobbly arms and looked up at his reflection in the mirror. He frowned in confusion; there hadn't been a mirror in the middle of the library before. Heaving himself up, Cas circled around the corner of the desk, his arms anchoring him to the desk's surface.

The longer he stared at the shiny surface of the mirror, the wider the ripples within became. Cas watched in amazement as a shadowy figure suddenly became visible. It pushed against the surface, sending the ripples into a frenzy. Cas panted; the breath that had been knocked out of him had yet to return. The shadow now stood in front of the mirror, its outline trembling. "Who...who are you?" Cas wheezed. He tried to take a step, but his knees went weak and he pitched forward. The angel saw the floor coming towards his face and squeezed his eyes shut. He was caught by a pair of strong arms and his face was pressed against a broad chest. "Careful, angel," murmured a low, rumbling voice in his ear.

Cas shivered and lifted his head to find a pair of strikingly green eyes staring down at him. Cas could have sworn that his heart was in his throat; he'd know those eyes anywhere. "Dean," he breathed. The man quirked the corner of his mouth up in a half grin. "Hey, Cas," he said. The angel didn't understand the torrent of different emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. The man holding him up was indeed Dean Winchester, but there was something off about him. Cas pulled back to look him over, which the man allowed with a sly smirk. His hair was slightly longer than Dean's and he had a neatly trimmed beard. Freckles and scars dotted over his tanned skin, which was bloody in some areas.

He wore dark bootleg jeans and a blood splattered green shirt under a ripped open red plaid button down. A silver ring flashed in the light on his right hand and a dagger's handle was nestled in a holster strapped to his thigh. "You done checking me out yet or should I give you a little more time?" the man said in an amused sarcastic tone. Cas pouted, not understanding what the man meant by "checking him out", and ducked his head to avoid Dean's eyes. Clearing his throat, Cas moved to extract himself from the other Dean's grasp, but the replica simply chuckled and lifted the angel to his feet with ease. Cas stood awkwardly with Dean's hands gripping his biceps with gentle pressure. The other Dean winked, patted Cas on the arm, and turned to walk towards the bookshelves.

Castiel blinked and he frowned, trying to decipher exactly who this man was. "You keep frowning like that, you'll end up getting wrinkles," Dean quipped, bending to pick up a book from the floor. The angel's mouth fell open in surprise; how had Dean seen him frowning when his back was turned? Dean chuckled and looked back at Cas from over his shoulder. Blue met green and Cas' heart fluttered. ' _Strange,'_ he thought, ' _Why am I suddenly feeling such...sensations around Dean_?' Puzzled, Cas looked up at the mirror image of Sam's brother with squinty eyes of suspicion. Before he could speak, however, Dean quickly scooped up another book and made a noise of triumph.

"Found it!"

"Found what?"

Dean hurried back over to where Castiel was still standing awkwardly and held the open book up in excitement. "This," he said, jabbing the pages of the book with his index finger, "My explanation." Cas' brows rose doubtfully and Dean clicked his tongue in disapproval. He shifted so that Cas could see the pages and pointed at the words and images again with great enthusiasm. Scanning the pages, Cas recognized the words and realized that Dean had picked up the book he had been reading before he'd passed out. He took the book from the clearly pleased Dean and studied the pages with an intense expression. "See, the mirror- that big, ugly thing over there," Dean said pointing, "It's not a mirror at all; it's a rift."

Castiel's eyes widened in understanding and Dean grinned happily, ecstatic that the angel was following along. "But rifts don't usually form within physical objects like mirrors. So, I figured that this mirror was once the famous fabled mirror from the Chinese novel _The Dream of the Red Chamber_. In the novel, it was a double-sided mirror that shows truth on one side and lies on the other. I think that something tore a rift in the mirror and forced it to become a weird version of a dimensional doorway," he explained animatedly. Floored, Cas stared at the gray-scale picture of a person falling from a rift. It sent a cold shiver down his spine; he imagined that his Dean had had a similar experience.

The excitement faded from the other Dean as he watched Castiel's expression of awed realization shift into one of a grave sadness. The angel slumped against the desk and slid to the floor, the book lying sloppily on his lap. Dean furrowed his brows in confusion and sat down on the floor next to Cas. "Cas, you okay?" He wasn't expecting the angel to flinch at his statement; it sent a pang of guilt through his heart. Cas sighed and ran a tired hand down his face. "You're not from this dimension," he stated flatly. It wasn't spoken as a question, but Dean nodded anyway with a wary expression.

Cas stared straight ahead with a faraway look in his eyes. "I can't help but wonder if you are from the reality that my Dean was thrown into," he said,"I don't understand why you shoved him into that mirror- or rift- and I don't know why **_you_** are the one here and not him." The words were harsh, but Cas' voice was soft and held no hatred- only weary sadness. The other Dean wasn't sure how to respond; he honestly didn't think that he would get as far as he did with the angel. He was silent, pondering over Cas' words with a small frown. Eventually, he heaved a sigh and nudged Cas' knee with his.

"In order for me to tell you why, I'm gonna have to tell you the whole story from the beginning. Get comfortable, angel, cause it's a long one," he said. Castiel squinted at Dean and tilted his head, a bit befuddled. Nonetheless, he shifted into a more comfortable sitting position and looked at the other Dean attentively. "I'm listening...human," he said. Dean blinked in surprise then burst out laughing. The back of his head struck the desk as he threw it back in laughter and he cursed, nursing the spot with his palm. Calmly, Cas reached over and lightly touched his fingers to Dean's cheek. Instantly, Dean stopped rubbing the sore spot and stared at Cas in amazement. "Holy crap, you really are an angel," he mumbled.

While the other Dean and Castiel conversed in the safety of the bunker, Sam Winchester of the other reality was not doing well at all. After he had said goodnight to the Dean downstairs, he had fallen asleep almost immediately on his bed in the corner. He had tossed and turned as another vicious nightmare gripped him and tortured his subconscious. Bolting awake, Sam had curled up against the wall, his tangled sheets wrapping around his feet like snakes. Sam sighed as his shaking body slowly began to still and calm. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and he tensed, afraid that it was Dean. It turned out to be a very sleepy Cas, who shuffled by his door with a huge yawn. Cas paused by his doorway and peered at Sam through half closed eyes.

"Sam?"

"Hey, Cas,"

The moment that Cas heard the tremble in Sam's voice, he was crossing the room, clamoring onto his bed, and pulling Sam into a hug. Sam gratefully hugged him back, though he felt guilty keeping his friend awake. "Did you have another nightmare?" Cas whispered. Sam hesitated and Cas' hold tightened around him. Sam nodded slowly and pressed his forehead against Cas' shoulder. Cas sighed and rubbed soothing circles on Sam's back. "Did he cause it?" Sam was surprised by Cas' question and pulled back to catch his friend's concerned blue gaze. Cas tilted his head and looked at Sam knowingly. Sam pulled away completely and settled back against the wall again. Cas scooted until he was sitting beside him and glanced over at Sam expectantly.

"In a way, yeah, I think he did cause it," Sam began, "I keep seeing our Dean fading away and then that person downstairs taking his place. I try to stop our Dean from fading, but every time that I do, he fades away faster. It makes me so pissed off that I can't do anything and that I have to see...that fake version of him instead of the real one." Castiel listened silently, a troubled expression on his face. Sam brushed his hair out of his eyes and away from his sweaty forehead. It hung limply over his shoulders and was messy from sleep. _'I must look like a werewolf_ ,' Sam thought.

"Sam, the man downstairs is Dean. He might not be the one that we know and love, but he is still here," Cas started, placing a hand on Sam's arm. Confused and angry, Sam pulled his arm out of Cas' grasp. Cas blinked in surprise and frowned a little. Sam stared at his friend in disbelief. "How could you say that?" he whispered. Cas looked at him warily, unsure of what the taller man was asking. Sam scoffed and got off of the bed, pacing. Cas scooted to the edge and sat there, watching Sam walk from one side of the room to the other. "Say what? I don't understand," he said. Sam whirled and glared at the man sitting on his bed. Cas leaned back, startled.

"How could you call him that?" Sam growled. Castiel was thoroughly confused. Sam snorted and ran a hand through his hair, turning his back to Cas. "Call him what? Dean?" Cas asked. He was beginning to feel the burning heat of anger pooling in his skin. Sam visibly flinched and turned back to Cas, eyes blazing. "His name is Dean, Sam. What else do you expect me to call him?" Cas snapped. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed angrily. Castiel stood and clenched his hands into fists. "I know that it bothers you that he looks like your brother, but we have to give him a chance. Maybe he's the key to finding our Dean," Cas said, trying to calm the man in front of him.

Suddenly, Sam snarled and grabbed Cas by the collar. "Don't you say that! Don't you dare...not you. I don't care who he looks like; he will never be Dean. You know as well as I do that there is no way to get our Dean back. You know why? Because our Dean is dead! He's gone and, no matter what you try to do, nothing can get him back!" he shouted. Castiel's eyes flashed and Sam stumbled back, cradling his jaw, with a shocked look on his face. "You punched me!" he said incredulously. Cas stood still, trembling with rage.

"You think that I don't know that my husband is dead? You think that I don't understand? It tears me up inside every time I see his face and I want to die. Sometimes I feel as though he has been put here as a punishment for me. It's like seeing a ghost and not being able to interact because you know that it isn't real. It's maddening! So, don't you dare tell me that I don't understand how you feel! The difference between us is that I am trying to put the past behind us and focusing on what we've got right now! He might not be our version, but he is still Dean Winchester and he is our friend!" Cas snarled. Shell-shocked, Sam stared at his furious friend and noticed the tears welling up in his blue eyes.

"Cas-,"

"I miss him just as much as you do,"

Sam winced at the raw emotion in Cas' voice and took a step towards him. Cas' chest heaved and he turned away from Sam. "Cas, I'm-I'm sorry," Sam whispered softly. Cas sniffled and wiped at his eyes frustratingly. Sam put a hand on Cas' shoulder and turned him around. Cas closed his eyes as Sam pulled him in for a hug. "You're right, Cas. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You're going through the same thing I am. I should have realized that before. I'm sorry," he muttered. Cas sighed and pulled away, wiping at his eyes again. Sam awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck and watched as Cas sat back down on the edge of Sam's bed. After a few moments, Sam joined him, sitting hip to hip with his friend.

"You know, he offered to help," Cas said quietly. Sam looked at him in surprise. "Help? He did?" he asked. Castiel nodded and glanced over at the doorway. Sam followed his gaze, but all he saw was the darkness of the hallway. "Dean...said that something shoved him through that mirror. What do you think could have done it?" he said, forcing the name out through clenched teeth. Cas shut his eyes, as though pained, and licked his lips. He sighed then shook his head. "I have no idea. It could have something to do with the huntress, but I'm not sure how," he said. Sam tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. A knot of frustration had worked itself into his stomach and he had to clench his fists to distract himself.

Cas stood abruptly and looked down at Sam with a weary expression. "We can look more into it in the morning. I think we should accept Dean's help, too. You never know, maybe he can find something that we can't," he whispered. Sam was still doubtful, but nodded regardless. Cas smiled gently and leaned down to wrap his arms around the taller man's broad shoulders. "Goodnight, Sam. Try to have better dreams," he mumbled. Sam hugged his friend back and patted him affectionately on the back. "Goodnight, Cas. Get some rest. You need it," he said.

Cas slumped, exhausted, and shuffled out of the room with a backhanded wave. Sam chuckled a little and settled back down on his bed. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes, praying that he had no more night terrors. Meanwhile, downstairs lying on his back with his eyes fixated on the ceiling, lay Dean. He had heard parts of their conversation and had conflicted emotions coursing through him. He was grateful to Cas for defending him, but he was also guilt-ridden with the fact that his presence caused Sammy and Cas both so much heartbreak. As he closed his eyes, Dean vowed to use everything within his power to find a way to get this dimension's Dean back if it was the last thing he'd do.

Dean felt another tug at his heart, stronger than the one he'd had before. For some odd reason, Dean thought that it was...closer than it had been before. Shaking his head, Dean snuggled deeper into the softness of the pillow and allowed sleep to take him, his thoughts filled with the angel.

A/N: Things are starting to fall into place now. I am currently working on the next chapter, so be on the look out for another update soon! I hope you have enjoyed reading so far!


	7. Hunter's Instinct

A/N: Ladies, gentlemen, and beyond, I present the seventh chapter! :3 I know I'm a dork. Don't judge me. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

The light of dawn was just inching its way through the windows of the bunker when Sam woke up. He had a terrible sense of foreboding and flung the covers from his body. In his hurry to rise, Sam's foot caught onto the comforter and tripped him, causing him to slam onto the floor face-first. Sam laid there for a few moments, his nose throbbing and his head pounding.

Groaning, Sam pushed himself to his feet and untangled his foot from the blanket, muttering curses under his breath. Something warm and wet dripped down his lips and chin. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, Sam found that his nose had begun to bleed. "Of course," he grumbled.

While Sam took care of his predicament, Castiel was still on the floor of the library with the other Dean. "So, this bitch," Dean continued, "took the vial with the virus and slammed it onto the floor WWE Smack down style. There was this huge explosion and it knocked everyone off of our feet. We were surrounded on all sides by the ugliest sons of bitches I've ever seen.

"I couldn't see Cas or Sammy, but I did see that huntress chick make a run for it. From over the noises of the monsters, I could hear Sam and Cas fighting. I knew that we wouldn't make it out of there alive if someone didn't do something. I looked around, while killing monsters, and found an opening in the warehouse that we three could fit into."

Dean paused, his eyes clouding over. Castiel, who had been listening silently, tilted his head. "Dean, are you alright?" he asked. Dean shook himself, as though in a daze, and looked over at Cas with a tight smile. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Sorry, it's just a bit hard for me to tell this part of the story," Dean said quietly.

Cas nodded slowly and put his hand on Dean's knee. When Dean glanced over at him in surprise, Cas smiled slightly with encouragement. Dean gulped and took in a shaky breath. "We managed to get through the gap and were running when I realized that that virus had done more to me than just knock me down," he said.

Gingerly, Dean lifted his shirt, revealing gaping vertical wounds running down his torso and chest. Though they were scabbed over, Cas could tell that they were deep and fatal. He also realized that his angelic healing powers would not heal Dean's wounds; they would have healed when he'd touched Dean's forehead before.

"I still don't know how I managed to get us all out of there and back to our house in one piece, but I did," Dean continued, pulling down his shirt, "The minute we got through the door, I couldn't take it anymore. Sammy caught me before I could smack my face on the hardwood and he carried me over to the couch.

"He and Cas tried to heal me with everything they had, but they weren't miracle workers. Hell, they even tried to do a few spells on me. When that didn't work, I had to tell them to stop. I was dying and I knew that I only had a few more moments. I said goodbye to Sam first. He had that look on his face- the one where he felt guilty and responsible. I didn't get the chance to tell him otherwise.

"Cas had been holding my hand the whole time. The only thing that I could manage to do was squeeze his hand a little before everything went dark. I didn't even get to chance to say I love you." Dean looked up at the ceiling and his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard to refrain from crying. Cas, who had taken the news of their marriage quite well, felt the bizarre swirl of emotions he had first felt in front of the mirror fill him again.

Cas' eyes widened with realization and he slid his hand up to Dean's shoulder. "These feelings...they're yours," he whispered. Dean nodded and put his head in his hands. "After I died, I found myself inside the rift. I could see my family, but I couldn't reach out to them or say anything; they wouldn't have been able to hear me anyway. I saw their reactions and it just about killed me a second time," he said, "I could see everything that happened since then and I've been trying desperately to find my way back.

"I have been in that mirror for about a year now. I figured out that, in order for the rift to cease to exist, I'd have to...I guess feed it. I found out that I could shift between our realities and got seven people to come to the rift. They weren't hurt, just put into a safe place within my dimension. When your Dean and Sam came along, I knew that they were the ones that could help me. I put Dean through, but with Sam shooting at me, I couldn't pinpoint where I threw him.

"I think that because Dean and I share the same- well, everything- our emotions somehow mix; I can feel what he feels at times and I'm guessing that he can feel what I feel." Dean stopped talking, suddenly jerking his head up to glare at the mirror. Cas felt an almost electric sensation that sent the hairs on his arms standing on end. A furious wind tore through the library, sending books and papers flying throughout the room. The wind seemed hellbent on tearing Cas' clothes from his body; it whipped them every which way. His hair was in the same predicament.

"Something's wrong," Dean said. His voice held the dangerous tone of an experienced hunter. He didn't seem to be bothered by the wind. Cas quickly stood as the hunter rose to his feet. His eyes were hard and his jaw clenched furiously. His senses on high alert, Cas watched the mirror cautiously, ready to strike should anything come through. Dean's green eyes flickered over the mirror's surface, analyzing something that the angel couldn't see. He suddenly stiffened and took a few steps towards the mirror with a panicked expression on his face.

"That's impossible! She should be dead," Dean whispered in horror. Cas jumped, startled, as Dean whirled around to face Cas with wild eyes. He moved forward and grabbed Castiel by the shoulders. "Cas, I've got to go back! There's trouble and, if I don't find a way to get into my dimension, things could get really bad," he said desperately. The angel nodded seriously, but he was still confused. Thankfully, Dean noticed. "If I don't get back, something awful could happen. Something that could hurt or possibly kill your Dean," he explained. Another torrent of emotions nearly overwhelmed the angel.

He immediately grasped Dean by the arms and shook him a little. "How can I get to him? Tell me how I can save Dean," he growled. The hunter stared at him for a few moments then a knowing, almost amused look glinted in his eyes. Cas ignored this and felt the ghostly sensation of hands on his hands then face. Dean glanced over into the hallway behind Cas then back on the angel.

He took Cas' face in his hands and, much to Castiel's embarrassment, kissed his forehead. "When you return to your body, go to the mirror with Sam. I'll do what I can until then. Once you get there, I'll explain more in detail. Go now!" he said. He pulled Cas into a tight embrace then spun and rushed into the mirror. The moment he vanished, Cas felt as though he had been struck with a frying pan and slumped to the floor.

Sam, who had fixed his nosebleed and went to check on Castiel, was sitting next to the angel with a panicked expression. He had tried calling to Cas then, when he had received no response, had laid a hand on the angel's. It had been ice cold. Sam had frantically grabbed Cas by the face, but it was just as cold as his hands. He was just about to start freaking out when Cas suddenly gasped for air. The angel's eyes widened and his back arched off of the bed as his hands gripped at his chest.

"Cas, you're okay!" Sam said in relief. Cas slumped back down against the mattress with an exhausted expression on his face. His heart felt as though it were about to explode within his chest. Sam watched the angel worriedly; he had truly thought that Cas had died. "Sam," Cas began in a raspy voice. Sam leaned in and Cas grasped at Sam's collar. "It's Dean...he's in trouble. We have to go back to the mirror," he whispered before his head slumped to the side. His eyes fell shut and Sam felt the tired sigh against his collarbone.

After a few moments of contemplating, Sam nodded. "Alright, Cas. Get some rest and I'll get the Impala ready," he said. Castiel was already asleep, lightly snoring into Dean's pillow. Sam stood and gnawed at his lower lip. What had happened while he was sleeping? Making a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, Sam ran a hand through his hair and made his way into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It was still too early for this.

Back in the other dimension, Dean was just opening his eyes. The scent of coffee made his mouth water and he sat up, grunting a little. His eyes felt heavy with sleep and he rubbed at them. "Good morning," came a voice from behind him. Dean turned and saw Sam standing with two cups of coffee in his hands. Dean remembered the upstairs conversation and felt a knot form in his stomach. Sam strode over and held out one of the steaming mugs towards Dean. "I thought you might like some coffee. You do drink coffee, don't you?" he asked. Dean nodded and took the cup with a grateful smile.

Sam sat down in one of the armchairs and sipped from his cup. Dean followed his example and took a sip. As the hot, smooth coffee hit his tongue, Dean's eyes fluttered shut and he savored the taste. It was perfect. He heard a small chuckle and looked up to find Sam grinning at him from over his mug. Embarrassed, Dean cleared his throat and wrapped both hands around the mug; it was freezing in the house and the warmth of the cup heated his icy fingers. "I, uh, I heard what you said last night," he began.

Sam flicked his eyes up to stare at Dean with a guarded look of surprise. "What did you hear?" he asked. Dean bit the inside of his cheek; he was trying to decided whether or not to regret asking. "You said that I would never be your brother and that there was no way to save your Dean," he began awkwardly. To his surprise, Sam didn't say anything and even looked away with an almost guilty expression. "Yeah, about that...I'm sorry," he said. Dean blinked in surprise.

"I did some thinking and realized that you had no control over what happened to you. You had no idea what had happened here and were just trying to help us as you would your own brother and...friend," he said, hesitating a moment. Dean's ears felt hot and he avoided Sam's apologetic hazel gaze. A small smirk quirked up Sam's lips and he sipped at his coffee again. They sat in silence for awhile, each drinking the cooling coffee. When about thirty minutes passed, Dean frowned and glanced up at the stairs.

"Does he usually sleep in this late?" he asked. Sam's brows furrowed and he, too, frowned. Worry burst through Dean when Sam shook his head. Setting his mug down on the coffee table, Dean stood and made his way over to the stairs. He paused at the railing and craned his neck to see into the hallway. Sam joined him and his frown deepened. "Cas? You up?" Sam shouted. There was no answer. Sam and Dean shared a look then the two bounded up the stairs, taking three at a time.

"Cas?!"

"Where are you, buddy?!"

Sam was nearly sprinting at this point and barged into what Dean assumed to be Castiel's room. Dean collided into Sam's back and grabbed at his nose as it throbbed. He opened his mouth to say something, but one glance into the room shut him up in an instant. To say that there were signs of struggle would be an understatement; the room was completely trashed. Sam took a few steps into the room and looked around. He leaned down and picked up a shattered picture frame. Inside was a blood splattered picture of Team Free Will before the monster apocalypse.

"Sam?"

"What?"

"Look,"

Sam followed the pale Dean's pointing finger to the window. His heart plummeted into his stomach. The glass pane had been broken and the curtains flapped in the cold wind billowing through the room. ' _That's why it is so cold in the house_ ,' Dean thought. His mouth was dry and he felt like he was going to be sick. Sam swallowed hard and grasped at one of the curtains. Dean heard the crinkling sound of paper as Sam ripped something from the curtain. "Dean," Sam said. Dean ignored the thrill of relief of Sam calling him by his name and crossed the room to stand beside the long-haired man. ' _Back to the place where it began, your angel will fall again. The time Gemini is seen in the sky is all you'll have. Don't dawdle; you've already missed the train_.'

Sam's fingers gripped at the edges of the note, making the paper wrinkle. Dean felt as though the breath had been knocked out of his lungs with a sledgehammer. Sam closed his eyes and looked out the window with a cold, hard glare. Dean's shock slowly melted into fury and he, too, glared out the window. Fat, white snowflakes fell gracefully into the room, littering the hardwood with sparkling ice. Whoever or whatever had kidnapped Cas had made a terrible mistake; they had invoked the Winchester brothers' wrath.

All hell was about to break loose for the second time in that dimension, but, this time, the monsters were the ones that needed to fear for their lives.

A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Fangirling/ fanboying? Let me know! Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Winchester Rescue

A/N: Thank you for waiting and for sticking around as long as you have! Enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

A few hours had passed within the alternate dimension. Snow had been steadily falling and now about six inches blanketed the ground outside. Sam had just finished hammering in the final nail in the wooden board covering the broken window. Dean sat nearby, his jaw clenching and unclenching with a furious glint in his eyes.

The two men did not speak; neither felt that there was a need to. However, Sam was getting restless and twirled the hammer in his hand as he turned to face Dean. "What's the plan, Sam?" Dean asked. Sam furrowed his brows in thought and set the hammer down on the floor. Without a word, he exited the room, causing Dean to scramble from his perch on Cas' bed to follow him.

"Well, we know this: Cas has been taken and only we can get him back. The only information we have is that riddle. So, maybe we should decipher the note and it will lead us to him?" Sam said as he made his way down the creaky steps, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. Dean followed close behind, thinking about the riddle. The stupid thing made no damn sense to him, no matter how hard he tried to decipher it.

The old house lacked a thermostat so Sam and Dean quickly went down into the basement. Dean shivered violently and his bare feet were beginning to cramp from the cold. He tugged at the long-sleeved grey shirt he had borrowed from Sam and covered his hands with the floppy sleeves. Unfortunately, Dean was stuck wearing the black shorts Cas had dressed him in; the other Dean's room was locked and, according to Sam, only Cas had the key. Sam tinkered with the coughing furnace and it roared to life.

"I think there should be enough coal in there to heat the house for the time being. We have a fireplace in the living room that hasn't been used in awhile, but it should still be able to give us at least some warmth," he said, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. Dean nodded, goosebumps rising on his skin. Sam glanced over at Dean, whose teeth were chattering, and bit his lip. "Sorry none of my pants fit you, dude," he said apologetically.

Dean extracted one of his hands from under his armpits and waved away Sam's apology. "D-don't worry about it, m-man. I'll b-b-be f-fine," he chattered. Sam noticed that the other hunter's lips were beginning to turn blue and ushered Dean up the stairs. Even though he still felt discomfort around this Dean, Sam was willing to put that aside for Cas' sake. Besides, the discomfort was slowly fading the longer Sam spent with him. Dean nearly tripped up the stairs and cursed under his breath.

Sam stifled a laugh and gestured towards the living room. "Go see if you can figure out that riddle. The note is on the coffee table. I have to get a few things first. I'll be right back," he said before hurrying up the stairs, taking two at a time. Dean shook himself and jumped up and down a few times to try and warm up. His toes and the tendons in the bottom of his feet cramped painfully at the action. "Son of a bitch!" Dean grumbled, practically limping over to the couch.

Dean nearly cried out in relief; his blanket was still where he had left it. When Sam came down the stairs, he was greeted by Dean Winchester wrapped from head to toe in a dark blue plaid throw blanket. Dean turned his head, startled by Sam suddenly bursting out laughing. He could feel his ears get hot with embarrassment and looked away. "It's freezing in here. Don't judge me," he mumbled.

Sam shook his head, still laughing, and set down a massive journal that seemed fit to burst. Dean flicked his eyebrows up in interest and glanced up at Sam. Sam tapped at the cover of the thick black leather book with his middle finger. "This...this is our hunter's log. We record everything in here: monster info, our contacts, memorable places, even the occasional personal entry. All of it...is right in here," he said. He moved away and gestured toward the journal with the back of his hand as he made his way towards the kitchen.

"I thought we could find something in there that could help Cas,"

"You trust me to read it?"

A heavy silence filled the room as Sam halted mid-step. Dean stared at Sam's back with sad eyes; he knew that Sam was just putting up a front because of Cas. Dean knew that he couldn't help the fact that he looked like this Sam's deceased brother, but Dean still felt like crap for making the poor guy have to see his look-a-like sitting on his couch- the couch where his older brother once sat not too long ago. Sam turned his head ever so slightly, his long hair obscuring his face from Dean's view.

"Think of it this way: if I can trust you to console my brother's husband in the middle of the night on our kitchen floor, then I can trust you with our journal," he said before disappearing through the door. Sam's words didn't register with Dean for a moment and he sat there, watching the swinging door of the kitchen stop moving. The moment it clicked, Dean's eyes widened in horror and he clamped a hand over his face. "Oh my god," he muttered. Well, that made things even more awkward than before. Perfect.

Meanwhile, huddled within the darkness of an unknown location, Cas was curled up on a frigid floor. Everything in his body hurt and he could slowly feel his limbs going numb. Snowflakes were still clinging to his dark hair along with a few icicles. He didn't know where he was or even how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was going to bed and having a terrible nightmare where something attacked him. Of course Cas had fought with everything he had, but whatever it was struck him on the back of the head and knocked him out.

He frowned; that had not been a dream. Cas was having difficulty separating reality and his dreams. A bloody wound send sharp, agonizing pain through his skull with even the slightest of movement. His arms, tied behind his back with strong rope, were aching so badly that Cas was sure his bones would snap at any moment. He also had a terrible burn on his ankles from the rope tying his feet together rubbing against them. His eyes were getting harder and harder to keep open for the tears he shed froze on his eyelashes.

Suddenly, Castiel's spine spasmed and arched his body forward, causing fresh pain to engulf his senses. More tears streamed down his face and his throat felt like it as on fire as he screamed. "God, if you are out there, if you exist, please," he sobbed, "Show them the answers so that they can get here quickly." Despite the nauseating agony he was going through, Cas knew that it wouldn't last too much longer. He accepted his only two options: die or wait for the Winchester brothers to save him.

For Castiel, it didn't matter how long it took- he would hold on forever if he had to-, there wasn't a single part of him that didn't fully believe that the two hunters would save him. A small smile lifted Cas' cracked lips. "Though, it might not be so bad to die. I'd get to see you again," he whispered. The image of Dean- his Dean- flashed in his mind and his heart swelled with longing and love. The moment Cas saw those warm green eyes on him, the pain seemed to fade into the background.

 _I miss you._

Things weren't going too smoothly in the other side of the mirror either. Castiel had yet to awaken from his coma-like slumber and Sam was having a panic attack. He was pacing the library, his hands gripping at his hair. It had been almost two days already and Sam was starting to think that he would never free Dean. What Sam didn't know was that the Dean from the other dimension stood nearby, watching Sam pace in frustration. Sam could not see nor hear him; the only way that Dean could communicate was through dreams.

Contacting the angel had drained every last drop of energy from him, however. "You're so different from my Sammy, yet you are the spitting image of him," Dean said. After realizing that Sam could not see nor hear him, Dean decided to just talk, hoping that maybe something would reach Sam. He twisted the ring on his finger, his heart aching. "I know you miss your family just as much as I miss mine. I wish I could figure out a way to help you. I feel so useless!" he said. Dean slammed his fist against the top of the desk in a frustrated rage.

"Whoa! What the hell was that?"

Sam suddenly whirled at the sudden bang on the desk, nearly jumping out of his skin. Dean was sure he looked just like a fish with his mouth opening and closing in shock. Excitement rushed into him and he let out a startled laugh; he had found a way to communicate! Dean hurriedly moved to the other side of the desk and tried flipping the pages of the book. Sam stared at the moving book and instantly snatched at the gun nestled in his belt.

Dean nearly yelped as a rock salt bullet barely grazed his forehead. He jerked back and Sam tightened his grip on the gun. "Watch it! You almost took my head off!" Dean yelled. Sam almost dropped his gun, his eyes going wide. "Dean?! Dean, is that you?" he shouted. The other Dean, in his delight at finally being heard, rushed up to Sammy and stood in front of him. "Sammy, I-!" he tried to say. Sam, ungracefully, jumped back and lost his balance. He fell onto his ass and looked around wildly.

"Jeez, you scared me! Where are you?" he spluttered. The other Dean had to force himself to calm down and knelt next to Sam. He took a few minutes to actually look at this dimension's Sam. There were no scars to remind Dean about all the times he had failed to protect Sammy from getting injured, his hair wasn't as long as his Sam's mane, and he didn't wear the dorky clothes his Sam wore. It made Dean feel a rush of homesickness. He missed them terribly. "I'm not your Dean, but I am Dean," Dean said.

Sam scrunched his brows in befuddlement. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. "Looks like I've got a lot of explaining to do," he said, "It's a long story. Get comfortable." Sam tried to focus on the spot where Dean's voice was coming from and his eyes flicked around warily. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down on the floor. Sam gulped and grabbed at his gun again, less threatening this time. "How do I know you're telling the truth? You could be some sort of spirit or demon trying to trick me. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now," he said.

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed the gun from Sam's hand. Taken completely off-guard, Sam squawked in surprise and stared at the hovering gun in front of him. "For one thing, you can't see me, so good luck with trying to shoot me. Remember how it worked out the last time you shot at me? Second, wouldn't you like to know what happened to your brother?" Dean said. Sam continued to stare at the gun, but he slowly nodded his head, a few strands of hair falling over his eyes.

Carefully, Dean unloaded the gun and set it down on the floor beside him. Sam's eyes followed the gun then darted back up to the space he believed Dean was sitting in. He was off by a couple inches but progress, nonetheless. "Wait, last time? Does that mean you were the shadow thing that shoved Dean through the mirror?" Sam asked. Dean hummed, impressed; this Sam was sharper then he looked. Sam took Dean's hum as a 'yes' and his eyes automatically locked onto the gun.

"Hold on there, Twitchy Fingers, you said you'd let me explain," Dean warned. Sam did not seem happy by this response but tore his gaze from the gun regardless. Dean almost laughed at the grumpy pout on Sam's face. "By the way, you look like a pissed off moose when you do that," he teased without thinking. Sam blinked in surprise.

"If you're that shadow, then why do you sound so much like my brother?"

"That's because I am your brother. Well, technically, I am another version of your brother,"

Sam's full attention was on Dean now- rather the space he thought Dean was in. Dean rubbed at his temples as a pounding migraine was steadily pulsing. He had to take about three minutes just to speak again; it hurt too much to speak. "Look, I don't have much time to explain. I told Cas most of the story, so go to him for the details. To sum it up, that mirror is a rift that links our two dimensions. Dean is in mine and I am in yours. Something really bad has happened to someone in my dimension and I need your help," he said.

Sam was nodding in understanding, which relieved Dean to no end; he was grateful that he didn't have to explain too much. He was about to say something else, but the awful wind was back. Sam didn't seem to notice the wind, but he could hear Dean's sudden screams as he was forcefully dragged back into the mirror. As the library filled with silence, Sam stood up in a panic. "Dean? Dean!" he shouted.

When he got no answer, Sam turned and eyed the book on top of the desk. He hesitated, looking from the gun on the floor to the book. He took a deep breath then let it out in a gush. "I must be crazy," he muttered. He turned the book around to face him and studied the pages. His eyes scanned each word and picture, taking in the new information. Suddenly, Sam found it- the answer to rescuing his Dean. He wanted to smack himself; how could he not have realized sooner? It was right in front of his face!

While Sam was having an epiphany, Castiel, lying still on Dean's bed, was beginning to stir.

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! You're awesome! Hope you liked it!


	9. After Effects

A/N: Things might make more sense in this chapter. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Castiel couldn't describe the feeling of incredible emptiness he felt as he opened his eyes. Even his grace felt dull and lifeless. While his vision adjusted to the dimly lit room, Cas rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Angels were not meant to sleep but that did not mean that they couldn't rest their vessels.

But such things did not pertain to Cas in the same sense anymore; Jimmy Novak's body was now Castiel's body. He had grown fond and attached to this form and it had become a part of him. The brothers knew the angel in this form and that was just the way Cas liked it. Or...he had once thought so. He wasn't so sure anymore.

During his "sleep", Castiel had been battered by a series of emotions and sensations that were not his own, yet they felt as though they were. Cas frowned; it still made no sense to him, even in the waking world. He had felt an overwhelming amount of agony and his limbs were heavy stones at his sides. The ground was terribly hard and made his bones ache.

Cas felt as though he were trespassing on someone's consciousness, but there was no means of moving; he had been trapped. Two sensations still lingered like hovering electric particles over his skin: the cruel, harsh, nearly maddening cold and the breaking of his heart within his chest. Suddenly, the air felt too thick and Cas gasped for air.

"Cas?"

"Sam?"

The angel turned his head as the taller of the Winchester brothers paused on his way down the hallway, craning his head to peered into the doorway. A relieved smile twitched up Sam's lips as he came into the room with a book in his hands- a book that had become all too familiar to Cas. The mattress shifted under Sam's weight as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"I feel like an ice cube being crushed from a freezer into a cup. I am the ice cube in this analogy,"

The corner of Sam's mouth quirked up for a moment then he cleared his throat. He held out a cup of steaming coffee and Cas looked from the mug to Sam then back again. "Where did you get coffee?" he asked incredulously. He hadn't seen the cup in Sam's hand when he had walked in. He frowned; then again, he hadn't really been paying much attention either.

Sam shrugged and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "The kitchen. I thought you might like some coffee. You do drink coffee, don't you?" he said. There was something about Sam's choice of words that made a strange sense of deja vu come over the angel. ' _Strange,'_ he thought, taking the cup from Sam's grasp. The heat emanating from the mug warmed his finger and he wrapped both hands around it, grateful for the warmth.

This action, too, caused a similar sensation to spread throughout his gut. There was also a nagging feeling in his heart that was beginning to make Cas twitch out of frustration. Sam noticed the distracted look on the angel's face and put the book on his lap. When Cas looked down at it with a frown, Sam tapped at the page with his index finger. "Everything we have been searching for, everything that we need to save Dean is all right here," he said excitedly.

Castiel carefully set the untouched coffee down on the nightstand and picked up the book in both hands. He quirked up an eyebrow and looked back up at Sam. "Are you joking?" he asked. Sam, too, frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. Castiel looked back down at the book and felt almost embarrassed. "I don't understand why you're showing me angel lore. I am an angel, Sam," he said.

Sam shook his head and pointed at a specific section of the page. "It says here that angels can walk in other people's dreams so long as they know the person. You know Dean, so you can contact him through his dreams, right?" he said excitedly. Understanding dawned on Castiel and he rubbed at his wrists in thought. He very well could go into Dean's dreams; why hadn't he thought of it before? He shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, staring down at the book, and tucked his legs underneath him. He rubbed at his wrists again without thinking.

Sam noticed and looked at the angel in concern. "Cas, are you okay? You keep messing with your wrists," he said. Castiel glanced at Sam with a mildly confused look then down at where his fingers were massaging the sides of his wrist. He stopped and noticed for the first time a terrible burning sensation. "I don't know why, but they feel like they're being burnt," he muttered. He did not like the feeling and glowered at his hands as though they were at fault for his discomfort.

Sam took Castiel's hands in his and examined them thoroughly. When he found no sign of injury, a wave of confused worry washed over him. He let Cas pull away and he took the book from the angel's lap to see if he could find an explanation. Sam scanned over the page, reading carefully. "Sam," Castiel hesitantly began, "There is something I need to tell you." Before Sam could respond, a loud howling could be heard from the bunker's library. Sharing alarmed glances, Sam and Cas hurriedly rushed from the room towards the sound.

Sam nearly crashed into the angel as Cas skidded to a halt. One look at Cas' expression made any rude comments from Sam fade. The black-haired man was staring intently at the center of the library, his eyes wide with horror. "Dean!" he shouted suddenly, rushing forward. Bewildered, Sam quickly followed and grabbed Cas by the back of his trench coat. "Whoa, hold it, Cas!" he said. Cas strained against Sam's hold, nearly panting. His eyes were staring straight ahead at something Sam could not see. The howling noise was steadily increasing in volume and made Sam want to cover his ears.

"He's hurt. Sam, release me so I can heal him!" Cas cried. The other Dean wanted to tell him to stop, that it was the rift playing tricks on the angel, but his voice was silenced. He could only stand helplessly as Sam restrained Castiel, who was getting increasingly more desperate. "Stop, Cas! Something isn't right!" Sam said, raising his voice to be heard above the wind. Dean perked up and tried to nod in agreement, but the rift halted him before he could. It must have created one hell of an image to show Cas for the angel had tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Anger, hot and bubbling, seared through Dean like molten lava; there was no way that he would allow the rift to eat his Cas! Using what energy he had left, the other Dean forced himself to his feet. "Don't...believe...lies...try..eat..you," was all he managed to say. It sounded like a static glitching message one would hear from a broken device. Dean could feel the roar of annoyance from the rift at his disobedience and the energy was sucked from his body, leaving him crumpled on the floor. Cas had stopped straining and was watching the rippling image with a new perspective.

Sam sighed in relief as the angel's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Sam. It seems I've been tricked," he said. There was an edge to his tone that Sam had heard before. A shudder ran down Sam's spine; Castiel was **_pissed_**. Extracting himself calmly from Sam's grip, he turned and fixed the hunter a hard stare. Sam could have sworn his blood had turned to ice. "I believe we should try your idea. We need to get Dean and," he growled, looking over his shoulder at something Sam could not see, "the other seven humans that that mirror has taken."

He clenched his hands into fists and stomped away back towards the bedrooms, his trench coat trailing out behind him. Sam, completely befuddled over what had just occurred, glanced over at where Cas had been staring before. "I don't know what he saw, but I heard you. Thanks," he said, hurrying after the angel. The other Dean, who was barely conscious, smiled.

In the other dimension, Dean and Sam had been sitting at the dining room table, struggling to pick apart the riddle. So far, the two had managed to figure out what the ominous kidnapper had meant by ' _The time Gemini is seen in the sky is all you have.'_ Dean scratched at his hair, his lips turned down in a tiny frown. "So, what, we have until the half moon to save him?" he asked as a confirmation. Sam nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. He had pulled his long hair into a ponytail, much to Dean's annoyance. If it hadn't been for the beard, Dean was certain that Sam would look like a chick.

Though, if looked at a certain way, one might think that this Sam looked sort of like a Viking, with the scars and the bushy beard. The mental image made Dean snort and Sam sent him a mildly curious look. "Something funny?" he asked, quirking up an eyebrow. Dean feigned innocence, which made Sam roll his eyes and turn his attention back down to the piece of paper smoothed out in front of him. "' _Back to the place where it began, your angel will fall again._ ' What do you think that means?" he asked.

Dean shook his head and pulled the note towards him. "I have an angel, but he's back in my dimension and, whoever this sick bastard is, I know that they would have no idea who he is," he said. Sam frowned and leaned in closer, his interest piqued. Much to Dean's embarrassment, Sam had a mischievous glint in his eyes that made Dean's ears heat up. "You have an angel? Is he your personal aid or something?" Sam asked, raising his brows a little.

Dean almost choked on his own spit. "Wh-what the hell are you talking about? He's family!" he retorted. Sam leaned back to Dean's great relief. Though, he still had that shit-eating grin on his face that made Dean want to reach over and smack him. He realized that, if he did so, it would end badly for him; this Sam was not his real brother. Dean had to keep reminding himself that, although this Sam was similar, he would never be ** _his_ ** Sammy. A wave of longing suddenly tugged at his heart.

"Would your angel have any reason to come here?" Sam asked. Dean looked up in confusion. Dean couldn't think of any reason why Castiel would come to this dimension. _'...not here. You see, he has his weakness; he likes you.'_ Dean sat back, bewildered as Uriel's words echoed in his memory. Why the hell did he remember **_that_** of all things? Sure, he felt strongly towards the angel, but not in the way that Uriel had implied. Wasn't it because of their so-called "profound bond"? In his moment of puzzlement, Dean's memory replayed every moment it remembered of Castiel.

By the time Dean had completed reminiscing, his heart had all but broken. Cas did love Dean and had shown it quite obviously in several occasions. Dean had been too oblivious to see it and simply thought that it was because they were friends. He realized now that Cas would take any form of love from Dean, be it friendly, brotherly, or romantically. All the angel wanted was to make sure that Dean- and Sam, of course- was safe and that he could protect him if he needed it.

While Dean was fighting his mental implosion of realization, Sam had figured out another part of the riddle. ' _The warehouse...where that huntress broke the vial. That must be what the kidnapper meant by '_ where it all began _.' But why there?'_ he thought. A pounding headache was beginning to form within his temples and Sam had to fight back an urge to grit his teeth in frustration; he still had no clues as to Cas' kidnapper's identity.

But the kidnapper knew Sam. Oh yes, she knew him quite well. Thanks to her sturdy vessel, she knew everything about the Winchester brothers. "It is such a pity, though. I wish I didn't have to find out in such a default way. Wouldn't you agree, Cas?" she purred, kneeling down to stroke her hand through the un-moving man's hair. Cas groaned in pain and glared up at her with glazed eyes. His struggling breaths, heaved from his chest, sent white puffs into the frigid air.

"You're...going to...pay for...this...you bitch," he gasped out in a growling voice. His kidnapper giggled and shook her head at him, sending red hair spilling over her shoulders. She gleefully lifted her hair in both hands and rubbed it between her fingers, relishing its softness. "I must say, Cas, your friend had beautiful hair," she said, getting to her feet. She tossed her head back and laughed at the flash of rage in the feeble man's eyes. As Cas' kidnapper sashayed from the room, Cas felt his body slump. His tears had stopped coming, but the sadness in his heart increased.

"I'm so sorry that you were the one she chose. I didn't know that the vial would enable her to do that. Forgive me, I wish I had known. I would have warned you, as you warned me. I'm so sorry...Charlie."

A/N: So? :D Is it good? Yes? No?


	10. Frustration

A/N: I was listening to Dean's Lullaby on repeat while writing this and I got extreme feels. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

"Cas...Cas, will you wait a minute?!" Sam said, grabbing the angel by the arm, "What had gotten into you?" Castiel glared at him, practically seething with anger. Sam raised his eyebrows and squeezed the angel's arm gently. Some of the tension eased from the angel's shoulders. "Talk to me," Sam said. He hated that Cas was upset and desperately wished he had seen what the angel had seen.

Cas took in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. "That mirror is a rift. It is keeping the Dean from the other dimension trapped and is using him to find a way to feed itself. It wanted to eat me. It showed me...Dean being tortured," he trailed off, clenching his teeth.

He turned his head away and glowered at the floor. Sam sucked in a breath; he hadn't realized just how serious the situation had been.

"Cas, I-,"

"I can feel him, Sam,"

Sam jerked back, as though he'd been slapped. The note of sorrow in the angel's voice was enough to snap his heart in half.

"You can what? How?" Sam asked. Castiel sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers. He suddenly looked exhausted in every sense imaginable. "The other Dean explained to me...that he and our Dean have a link. Well, because of this link, I can feel everything that Dean feels.

"I believe that it has something to do with the bond we share. When I pulled him from Hell, I left a portion of my grace within him. Because of that, I can still communicate with him," Cas said. Suddenly, his shoulders slumped and he sighed.

"I should have been there when you two went on the hunt. I could have prevented this from happening," he said, "I've failed you both again. I am an angel, Sam. I should not need a human to remind me of my abilities. I should have used them sooner. If I had, Dean might be here with us." Sam frowned; this wasn't like Cas at all.

Then again, Castiel hadn't been acting like himself even before Dean had been thrown into the mirror. There seemed to be something on his mind- something that he wasn't ready to speak about. Sam put a hand on the angel's shoulder and patted it in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"I feel...," Cas whispered, "I feel like a part of me is missing. My chest always feel heavy, like I can't breathe, and my eyes are always stinging, but tears never come. Sometimes, if I see or smell something that reminds me of Dean, pain bursts into my chest like someone stabbed me with an angel blade. I've felt such things before, but I never knew exactly what they meant."

Sam bit his lip and looked down at his shoes. He had known that the angel cared for his brother; now he knew just how much. "You're experiencing heartbreak," he explained. Cas looked up at him with squinted eyes and frowned in confusion. "My heart is very much intact. It is not injured," he said. Sam resisted the urge to sigh again; instead, he shook his head and spoke to Cas in a softer tone.

"Your heart isn't physically broken. It's emotionally ripped. See, because you love Dean, your brain registers him missing as a loss- as though he were dead. You miss him, Cas. I know because I miss him, too. But for you it's different. I miss him because he's my older brother and we've been through everything together. He's a lot more to you than just a best friend, isn't he, Cas?" he said. Castiel went silent, ducking his head to avoid Sam's hazel gaze. Sam realized that that must have been what was on the angel's mind.

Everything made sense now; Cas was in love with Dean Winchester, but he was afraid what would happen should he confess. "We didn't know what was going to happen, Cas. That's the thing with being a hunter; everything is unexpected. And it's not like Dean is helpless. He's probably been trying to get back to us," Sam said. When Castiel didn't respond, Sam awkwardly pulled him into a hug.

Cas was surprised for a moment, but he hugged Sam back nonetheless. "We'll get him back, Cas. If I know my brother, he'll meet us halfway and will be bitching about what he went through for weeks," Sam said, forcing a chuckle.

Cas smiled a little and pulled away from the taller man. Sam cleared his throat and took a few steps back. "So, you still wanna try that dream thing?" he asked. Castiel looked down at the floor and furrowed his brows in thought. While he hesitated, Sam was thinking about what the other Dean had told him.

 _Something really bad has happened to someone in my dimension and I need your help._

 _'Who could he have meant? And why ask me for help when he went to Cas first?''_ Sam thought. He had figured out that the other Dean had a brother that was an alternate of himself. Did that mean that the other Dean...had a version of Castiel in his world, too?

Sam remembered the expression of affection and a hint of pride in the alternate Dean's voice when he'd told Sam to speak to Cas for further details. As Sam was contemplating his theory, Castiel looked up with a determined glint in his eyes.

"Yes. Let's do this," he said. Sam's brows flicked up in surprise; he hadn't thought that the angel would actually agree to the dream-walking. To be honest, Sam was wary that it wouldn't work; Dean was in another dimension, after all. Still, he knew that they had to try. Besides, if anyone could get through to Dean, it was Cas.

He nodded and Cas turned on his heel. As he started walking, Sam noticed that the angel was heading towards Dean's room. Sam shook his head and he had to stifle a chuckle of amusement. ' _Turns out that I was right, after all, jerk_ ,' he thought, ' _Cas does like you better. Better than you might think.'_

While Sam and Castiel figured out how to contact Dean within the warmth of the bunker, the other reality's Sam was freezing his ass off. The furnace had broken down about four hours ago and no amount of finagling could fix it. On top of that, the snow had thickened outside and it was beginning to look like a blizzard. The willow trees outside blew harshly in the wind and banged their branches against the windows.

The good thing was that he had figured out another part of the riddle. He hurried up the basement stairs and into the living room. Dean was still hunched over the note, his hands in his hair. It was as though he were staring at the world's most difficult math problem. Sam slid a chair back, startling Dean, and sat down with an excited grin. He rubbed his hands together to warm them then leaned forward.

"So, get this," he began, "the warehouse where the huntress released the virus? There's a train station about eight miles away from it. You remember that part of the riddle? ' _Don't dawdle; you've already missed the train_ '? That must be what the kidnapper meant," he said.

Dean stared at Sam for a few moments then narrowed his eyes in thought. Sam sat back and seemed satisfied with himself. "I don't know, Sam, it seems too easy. Besides, didn't you say that everyone was dead? You think a monster could have taken Cas?" he asked. Sam's face fell; he hadn't thought of that.

"So what do you think it means then, Dean?" he asked. Dean shook his head with a troubled frown. While Sam had been fiddling with the furnace, he had done some thinking. Perhaps the note was meant for him? After all, how could someone from a completely different universe know about the angel Castiel- Dean's Cas?

His head throbbed and he rubbed at his temples. At this point, Dean was sure that he had that stupid riddle seared into his brain. He wanted to crumple up the paper and scream in frustration. It didn't make any damn sense! This was like a bad knock off of Alice in Wonderland!

To make matters worse, Dean could barely keep his eyes open. The dark circles made him look like he'd gotten punched and his brain felt like gelatin. Normally, Dean could still function on two hours of sleep, but he had been through more than even he could handle. Not to mention that he had stayed up with Cas until five in the morning. All he wanted to do was sleep.

But he desperately wanted to figure out the riddle. It was their only way of finding where Cas had been taken. He was just so...tired. Sam, waiting for Dean to answer his question, noticed that the other hunter had zoned out and looked like he was about to keel over at any second. Sam sighed and put a hand on Dean's arm.

He ignored Dean's startled jump and slid the note away with his other hand. "Let me figure out the rest of the riddle. You need to get some sleep," Sam said in concern. Dean rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and stifled a yawn. He opened his mouth to protest, but one sharp look from Sam shut him up.

"I can't have you passing out on me when we're this close to figuring this thing out. Get some rest, Dean, you need it," he said. Dean grumbled under his breath but pushed his chair back and stood up. His brows flicked up in surprise as Sam mimicked him. Sam looked at him in amusement.

"Unless you can navigate through the house on your own. I mean, I can stay here if you want," he teased. Dean wasn't sure if it was the familiar glint in Sam's eye or how Sam was acting so much like his Sammy, but he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Bitch,"

"Jerk,"

Sam seemed surprised by his automatic response. Dean tried to swallow the lump rising in his throat and looked away awkwardly. He gestured with his arm for Sam to lead the way. As the taller man moved passed him, Dean could see that Sam was smiling a little. Dean rubbed his eyes again and followed Sam up the stairs.

As the two reached the hallway, Sam found himself looking at his brother's bedroom door. The dark mahoghany wood seemed to mock him. Sadness tugged at his heart and Sam pushed open his own bedroom door. "Here, this is my room. You can sleep in here, if you want to," he said.

Dean heard the depressed note in Sam's voice and tried to catch a glimpse of his expression. "Sam, you okay?" he asked. Abruptly, Sam turned and pulled Dean into a desperate hug. Dean instantly returned the embrace and Sam pressed his forehead against the shorter man's shoulder. They stood in silence, neither moving a muscle. Sam took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I know that I said you'd never be my brother, but I think I was wrong. You being here is...it's sort of given me closure. Even though I said some shitty things before, I'm glad you're here. Thanks, Dean," he said. Dean patted Sam on the back and hugged him tighter. His heart had swelled with emotion and he was trying hard not to cry; Sam had finally accepted him.

"Family doesn't have to be blood. It doesn't matter to me what universe you're from, what dimension we're in, or, hell, even what you look like; I'll always be there to take care of you. You're my little brother, Sammy," Dean said. Sam bit his lip and, for that split second, it felt as though his Dean, his older brother that loved and cared for him, was there once more.

Now, neither would admit that tears had been shed; they had too much pride for that. But tears had fallen on both ends of that brotherly embrace. After they had pulled away and Dean had gone to bed, both men felt a lightness in their chest they hadn't felt in a long time. At some point, the two even dared to think that perhaps everything was going to be alright.

The Winchesters should have known that all good things come to an end. Cas' kidnapper paced restlessly back and forth, her heels making dull clicking noises on the wood floor. Cas lay in the corner, his eyes barely open. "Oh, how long does it take them to figure out a damn riddle? It wasn't that complex," the kidnapper said. She glared over at the motionless Cas and snorted in disgust. "You know, you were way more fun before your hubby died. All that 'broken-heart syndrome' crap is really irritating," she sneered.

Then, without warning, a cat-like grin nearly took over her face and she giggled darkly. "That's it! If they won't come to me, then I'll just have to meet them halfway and give them someone that they will come for," she said. Cas felt a tremor of fear as she turned to look at him with a suggestive look.

Even though the kidnapper looked like Charlie, the once sweet and nerdy girl Cas had known was long gone. "And I know just how I'm going to do it, too," she said. As Cas' kidnapper approached him, he did the only thing his body would allow him to; he screamed.

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly at him and sent a sharp kick against his ribs. Cas instantly quieted, a trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. The image of his Dean blurred and was slowly fading away. He wanted to cling to it, but he just didn't have the strength.

"Come along, Cassy. We've got a phone call to make."

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait. I was going to have this chapter up sooner, but my laptop decided to freeze and I hadn't save what I'd written. I had to start all over. Forgive me and thank you so much for the reviews!


	11. Hurry Up And Save Him

A/N: My internet has been acting wonky. :( I'm sorry for delaying my updating for so long. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

With her heels clicking on the rippling surface of her chamber within the mirror, "Charlie" approached the slumped figure in the corner. She knelt in front of him and lifted his chin with the tip of her nail. As his dull green eyes met hers, "Charlie" grinned.

"You like it?" she asked, looking down at herself, "I thought a change in form was in order." The other Dean's lip curled in anger and he made an attempt to lunge at "Charlie", only to fall on his face as she stepped out of the way.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," she said. She threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing throughout the chamber. Dean lifted his head with a grunt and glared at her intensely. "How dare you use her like that?" he snarled.

She made small hum in the back of her throat and paced the floor with her hands behind her back. "Well, considering you haven't done your job correctly and I've been starving," she snapped with a heated, accusatory glare in his direction, "I had to find a way to keep myself healthy. The only way to do that was to take over a form that could contain me."

Dean snorted in disgust and managed to heave himself onto his side. The action drained him and soon he was panting for breath. "Charlie" looked at him in amusement and examined her nails as though they were the most interesting things in the world.

"You're going to die again, Dean," she said coldly, "I know you must have thought that since you managed to stop my feedings and got your pathetic other dimensional self to fight your battles for you that you'd be able to defeat me.

"How wrong you were. All you did was cause both of your families heartbreak and misery. Tell me, how has that little decision worked out for you, hmm? Has Dean fulfilled your requirements? From what I saw, he was just a replacement for you. Another Dean Winchester that would come and go. It hurt your precious Castiel something fierce, though, to see an exact replica of his dead husband."

Dean's eyes squeezed shut. He didn't want to hear what the rift had to say; he wanted it to shut it up, especially since it was speaking through Charlie's body. He couldn't help but flinch at the mention of Cas. Which, of course, "Charlie" noticed.

"Oh, yes, you just about broke his heart again with that choice. Poor Sammy, too. Seeing his dead older brother must have really smarted his very soul," she taunted in a mocking tone. Burning hot rage boiled in Dean's stomach and it felt as though his skin had been set ablaze. He knew that the rift was showing him such cruelty on purpose, but he couldn't control himself.

His teeth clenched painfully and he was sure he was seeing red. Every muscle in his body tensed and his hands clenched into tight fists. But the rift didn't seem to care about the livid, energy-drained man on the floor in front of her. She tilted her head back and stared down at him in cruel amusement.

"You know, I must admit that I was impressed that you not only got Dean into your world safely and without my knowing, but you also got through to his angel. Now, he looked yummy. You had your chance to redeem yourself with me, but you decided to warn him that I was going to eat him. That was just plain rude of you," the rift said with a pout.

Dean swallowed hard and his anger gave him enough strength to push himself onto his knees. The rift looked at him in surprise then a supernaturally wide smirk stretched across Charlie's face.

She had Dean by the throat in a flash and had him pinned to the wall. His skull struck hard and caused cracks and bits of broken glass to clink to the floor. "I forgot how strong you were. Your hunter skills really do come in handy. Too bad for you that they won't help you much in this situation," she chuckled. Dean's eyes were rolling back in his head and she release just a little bit of the pressure she'd been exerting.

"He'll stop you," Dean croaked, "Dean will stop you and you'll be sorry you ever messed with our family." The rift did not seem intimidated and chuckled. Her nails gripped harder into the soft skin of Dean's neck, drawing blood. She paused a moment to watch the thin streaks of crimson trickle down the man's tanned skin.

She leaned closer and brushed her lips against the shell of his ear. "The only way you could ever stop me would be if by some miracle, which, I'm afraid, you're fresh out of. Now," she said, stepping away and letting Dean fall to the floor, "if you'll excuse me, I have a married man to finish off. He has been _**dying**_ for me to do so for quite some time."

As she cackled, Dean stiffened, his eyes widening in horrified realization. _**No**_. His skin burned with cold sweat and painful numbness coiled within his body. "You...you sadistic bitch! Let Cas go or I swear on all that is holy, I will kill you!" he yelled. The rift dismissed his threat with the wave of her hand and disappeared.

Dean slumped to the ground again, his face smashed against the cool glass surface. He knew he had to warn the other Cas and Sam, but he couldn't move a muscle. Then, for the first time in a long time, Dean closed his eyes and started praying.

 _Cas._

In the bunker, Sam sat at one of the tables in the library with a book about rifts in front of him. He had been studying it while Cas laid on his back on Dean's bed. The angel claimed that it would make contacting the hunter easier if he were in Dean's room, but Sam knew better. He smirked halfheartedly and turned to the next page.

He stared at the black inked-in words on the paper thin article and the buzzing, slowly rising feeling of panic, which had been humming in his gut, heightened to the point where Sam could hardly breathe. His heart speedily hammered against his rib cage, fueling the sensation, and, all at once, his body began to shake.

His hands were shaking so hard that he could barely hold the book. His index finger reached to grab at the next page and the sharp edge of the paper sliced down the middle of the soft flesh of his finger pad. Sam slowly lifted his finger, watching the thin cut ooze dark red blood, shiny and sticky, which slithered into the grooves and lines of his hand.

A gray hazy fog drifted over his thoughts, causing any sense of coherence to be muffled. Sam barely focused on the sharp, pulsing pain of the paper cut for he was completely captivated by the sliver of red drying along the pale skin of his finger.

He wondered, for a split second, if the other Sam could feel the same burning from a simple cut. His eyes were beginning to sting from his lack of blinking, but Sam couldn't tear his attention away from the sight that had happened only seconds ago.

In that moment, Sam Winchester had a sudden realization. He stood calmly, never removing his gaze from the cut, even when the book fell to the floor with a low thud. According to the Dean from the mirror dimension, someone he cared about was in trouble- trouble that he needed Sam's help with.

His Dean was in the other reality- the world where the person the other Dean was referring to was in danger. Knowing his brother better than anyone, Sam realized that Dean must have already been trying to help. He must have met the other Dean's Sam and Castiel and would be there when whatever happened to the unfortunate person occurred.

' _Of course, that's why he hasn't returned. He put his own problems to the side for the people he cares about- or different versions of them, anyway. But, to Dean, it won't matter what version he is with because he cares for us no matter what_ ,' Sam thought. A punch of guilt slammed into Sam's stomach and he clenched his fists. He was a hunter, too, damn it. Dean was out there saving people while Sam sat on his ass, reading books and acting like he was useless without his older brother.

His head clear, Sam began to recollect what all had happened since Dean's disappearance. The scene with Cas and the other Dean played in his mind like an HD movie clip. From what Sam had heard and from what the angel had explained, the rift wanted to keep the other Dean from reaching out to Sam and wanted to eat Cas, who had been acting so strangely. Deep in thought, Sam finally tore his eyes away from the paper cut on his finger and picked up the book on the floor.

Frantically flipping to the page he'd been about to read and quickly scanned its contents, looking for that certain tidbit of information that would prove the theory forming in his mind. After a few moments of searching, Sam was about to slam the book shut again- until he found it. A jolting spark of fear jump-started his heart into overdrive.

Sam stumbled into a run, throwing the book behind him carelessly. His long legs carried him across the floor and his feet slipped awkwardly trying to keep up with the desperate strides. He had to get to Castiel...before it was too late.

The angel, unaware of the events happening within the bunker, was standing in what appeared to be an old house. He could see a man sitting at a table, long hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. The man had broad shoulders that were stiff with tension. Knowing that he could not be seen by the man, Cas followed the tugging sensation in his heart.

He held the railing of the staircase as he ascended the creaky wooden steps up to the second floor. His calm blue gaze swept along the dark hallway, taking in the various dusty pictures hung along its walls. He paused mid-step, peering curiously at a particular picture. In the grimy golden frame, four people were posed in what looked to Cas like a group hug.

In the bottom right of the picture stood a small woman with long fiery red hair and bright green eyes. She was smiling impishly towards the camera and had one arm wrapped around the man beside her while the other could not be seen. Cas assumed it was around the man standing slightly behind her. His eyes flicked to the person beside the woman.

This looked like the man he had seen downstairs. Chestnut brown hair spilled down his back and over the tops of his broad shoulders. The beginnings of a beard were just starting to cover his sharp jawline. His skin seemed smooth and three moles- one by the corner of his lip, one on his chin, and another just under his cheekbone. Cas could see the warm smile in the man's almond shaped, hazel eyes as well as on his lips.

He, too, had his long, muscular arm around the red-haired woman with his other around the man slightly behind him. Cas looked up at the next person in the photo and, with a jolt, recognized the other Dean Winchester. Only he looked a lot different in this picture that he did in real life.

He was smiling, for one thing- a goofy, toothy grin at that. He had stubble, unlike the trimmed beard he had had when Cas had seen him. His hair was styled, neatly combed, and held a healthy glossy glow to it in contrast to his now unkempt, dull hair. Cas could see Dean's freckles more clearly and how tanned his skin was. He had no scars; his skin was smooth and unblemished, aside from his thousands of freckles.

He wore a grey t-shirt with big red lettering on the front that said AC/DC. For some odd reason that Cas could not explain, the angel recognized the shirt and could almost feel the texture of its fabric on his skin. He shivered, goosebumps prickling along his arms and back.

Castiel stared at the other Dean for a few more moments, taking in the happy glow and the warmth in his bright green eyes, then glanced at the final person in the photo. A strange sense of shock as the blue eyes of Jimmy Novak looked back at him sent Castiel stumbling back a few steps, his back bumping into the opposite wall.

' _Wait, this must be the other Castiel. This is Dean's...husband_ ,' the angel thought as he recovered from being startled. He peered closer at the other Cas with a new curiosity. He still did not know what a husband actually was, but he assumed that it meant that this person- this human man that shared Cas' vessel- was precious to the other Dean.

The other Cas had short black hair that stuck up in all different directions, as though someone had messed it up. He had brilliant blue eyes that were alight with laughter. He, too, was grinning happily, which caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle and his nose to scrunch up slightly.

The angel couldn't see Cas' arms, but he could tell that they were snugly wrapped around the woman below him and, of course, Dean. Cas' turned his attention briefly to the taller man next to the woman and realized that he must have been the other Sam. ' _Which means...the woman_ ,' Cas thought, looking at the redhead.

His stomach heaved and a stab of pain sparked through his chest. "Charlie," he whispered. He knew she had looked familiar. His fingers touched lightly at the glass of the picture. He could almost hear her laugh, feel her playful punch on his arm as she asked had the two become best friends. His face felt wet and Cas touched his cheek to find that he was crying. A pang jolted through his chest.

Shaking his head, Cas cleared his throat, wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, and, to distract himself, quickly returned to his original mission: finding Dean. All the doors in the hallway were closed so Cas opened each one. The first door turned out to be a linen closet, filled with fluffy towels. The second was the bathroom, while the third led to a laundry room.

Frowning and frustrated, Cas tried the fourth door and found it locked tight. Cas clicked his tongue in annoyance and went to the door at the end of the hall. As he approached, he noticed that the door was ajar. Curious, Cas pushed the creaky door open and nearly stepped on a shard of broken glass.

This bedroom- or, what used to be a bedroom- looked as though someone had had a viscous fight within. Articles of clothing, an assortment of different knickknacks, books, and what appeared to be posters scattered hazardously throughout the room.

The window, which had been boarded up with a thick piece of wood, had been broken and, though the majority of it has been swept up, there were still shards of pane glittering on the hardwood. ' _I must've been too late_ ,' Cas thought in dismay, _'This must be where the awful something Dean mentioned occurred.'_

He turned away from the upsetting mess and shut the door just enough to resemble the way he'd first found it; he wasn't supposed to be here, after all. It confused Castiel quite a bit as to why he was allowed to walk through such a place. This didn't feel like Dean's mind; it felt quite similar to his own, to be frank. He had figured this out quite some time ago and had assumed that he'd needed to physically be near Dean in order to enter the hunter's dreams.

His mouth quirked down in a befuddled frown as Cas tried the last door in the hallway. Almost immediately, his heart seemed to leap forward like an eager puppy as the tugging sensation increased drastically. Behind the door was another bedroom, only this one was being currently occupied.

The angel's whole body felt as though it had been turned to gelatin. His limbs were both heavy and burning with adrenaline. His lungs and heartbeat all were working overtime. A peculiar buzzing sensation prickled into the very pores of his skin and goosebumps tickled over every inch of him.

The inside of his mouth was dry and his throat was thick with a heavy lump. An almost aching fluttering cramped in Cas' stomach along with the rise of what could have been a rather heartbreaking whimper lingered within the inner depths of his chest. He felt completely filled with air yet out of breath.

The angel took short wobbly steps towards the huddled, blanket adorned figure that was lying on top of a bed. Even though Cas could not see who was under the blankets, he knew exactly who slumbered beneath their warmth. His fingers gripped at the soft white comforter and pulled it back shakily.

 _Dean._

A/N: I really hope that I haven't bored anyone with the way this story is progressing. It might just be an author thing, but each time I reread what I've written, I feel it lacks a certain...spark? I apologize if this is the case for you all. I will try harder to get the points across. Until next time!


	12. Breakdown

A/N: As the ending draws nearer, I find myself getting more and more apprehensive regarding your reactions. :3 I cannot wait! Only a few more chapters to go! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

 _Brrrrrriiiiiinnnnggg! Brrrrrrrriiiiiinnnnggg!_

The other Sam, who had finally given up on the riddle, was just standing to stretch when the sudden ringing of the house phone nearly scared him out of his skin. He stared at the black rotary dial telephone that had sat gathering dust over by the television for over a year. Chills had begun running in long, shivering streaks up and down Sam's spine as the phone continued to ring.

 _Brrrrrrrriiiiiinnnnggg! Brrrrrrrriiiiiinnnnggg!_

That phone was only used in emergency situations and the number had been distributed to only family. Sam knew that the Dean sleeping upstairs in his room could not have dialed the number- he doubted that Dean even knew it- and he knew that he hadn't called it. That left only one other person. Sam rushed to the phone and picked up the bulky receiver in his hand.

"Hello? Cas, is that you?" he asked desperately. The other line was silent, the hum of the wiring in the phone barely audible to Sam's ear. Then, a rasping, wheezing breath crackled through. "Sam," coughed a voice. Sam's knees buckled and he had to grab onto the television to refrain from collapsing. His hair, having been taken out of its ponytail earlier, swept into his face, obscuring the living room from his sight.

"Hey, hey, I'm here. Where are you? Are you alright?" he asked softly, his relief clear in his voice. There was the sound of rough coughing then a shuddering inhale. "Sam, you and Dean need to stop looking for me. It's a trap! She w- ghck!" a powerful slap cut Cas' frantic voice off. Sam gripped the receiver in both hands, panic slowly churning in his gut.

"Cas?! Cas!"

"That wasn't what you were supposed to say, Cassy,"

Sam froze as a new voice came through the static. His heart beat faster and his palms were being to sweat. His blood had turned to ice in his veins and the hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end. "Who are you?" he said. He tried to his hide his fear with a growl, but his voice cracked like a teenage boy's. There was a small dark chuckle from the other line then silence.

Before Sam could fully begin to panic, he could hear what sounded like dragging and whimpers of pain. "Stop it! Stop hurting him! Tell me what it is you want!" Sam shouted. The noises failed to cease and Sam cringed with each sob. Suddenly, Cas stopped. Dead silence filled the tense atmosphere.

"Sammy," a woman said in a sing song voice, "Have you figured out my little riddle yet?" There was a tremendous thud followed by a loud cry of agony that nearly burst Sam's eardrum. His whole body flinched at the sound. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and his eyes flicked around the room, searching for some unknown escape from his inner torment.

After realizing who he was speaking to, Sam clenched the phone tight enough to turn his knuckles white. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard to maintain his composure. Stomping over to the table, Sam snatched up the note with the riddle on it. He was stretching the phone cord to its limit, but he paid little attention to it.

"I have figured it out," he snapped. There was a pause. Assuming that it meant that Cas' kidnapper was waiting for him to talk again, Sam tossed his hair out of his eyes and scanned over the paper clutched in his fingers. He opened his mouth to speak. "No, I don't think you have, Sammy," the woman said before Sam could say a word, "Because, if you did, Cas would be safe and warm at home right now, instead of lying on the ground dying."

Sam's heart sank and his head slumped, causing his hair to fall into his face. There was another chuckle and a flash of pure rage seared through Sam like a painful cigarette burn. "How dare you laugh, you sadistic bitch?! Wait until I find you. I will personally make you suffer for what you've done," he snarled.

This time, a loud, raucous guffaw broke through, startling Sam to the point of almost dropping the phone. "You are so much like your brother, Sammy. Has anyone ever told you that? So temperamental," the kidnapper teased. She paused again, fueling Sam's outrage. The tall man clenches his teeth hard enough to make his jaw creak.

Part of him knew that she was doing so to irritate him and he struggled to calm himself. "I'm afraid you've tested my patience to its limit, my dear," she continued, "Therefore, I will not disclose our location- in fact, I think I'll move the precious thing someplace else. Unless Cas here wants to actually follow his lines?"

Sam listened intently as Cas' wheezing breaths crackled in his ear. He could barely make out the few unintelligible words from Cas before another hacking cough cut him off. The woman clicked her tongue in mock disappointment while Sam frantically tried calling out his friend's name, but there was no answer from his brother's husband.

"Well, you heard him. I hope you know that it truly is disheartening that you failed to figure out my simple, simple riddle. I really wanted to meet you," the kidnapper said, "Bye bye then. Oh, and, by the way, your brother says hello," said the kidnapper before the line went dead.

Sam stood silently, tremors shaking his whole body. He stared at the useless paper in front of him, listening to the drone of the dial tone in his ear. Anger boiled in his veins and he felt fit to burst. Thoughts were spamming his mind like the Morse Codes of a telegraph.

' _What had she meant by your brother says hello? Has she met Dean_? _Does that mean that he's-'_ Sam immediately shoved such a thought away; Dean was dead and there was no getting him back. He knew this and had told himself nearly a million times. Yet, a tiny, glimmering spark of hope that tingled in his chest from the woman's words.

The phone had slid from his loosened fingers and draped leisurely against the crook of his neck. The smoothness of the receiver against his neck felt slimy and abnormally warm on his skin. He shoved it off with a look of disgust and barely heard the thud as it hit the floor. As the device was dragged away by the rebounding of the phone cord, reality seemed to finally strike.

 _'I'm going to lose the only family I've got left and there's nothing I can do to stop it.'_

Sam slumped to the floor, his knees weak, with his head in his hands. Every emotion he was feeling- fear, anger, sorrow, and guilt- mixed with his panic and soon Sam felt as though he were about to die. So, Sam did the only thing that seemed natural at the time; he yelled, cried, and gripped at his head out of fear that it might just explode.

While Sam suffered through his emotional breakdown, the dying Cas was desperately trying to keep his eyes open. The conversation with Sam had drained what energy he had had left and now pitch darkness was beginning to creep into the edges of his vision. The only positive aspect of Castiel's current situation was that the thing possessing Charlie had left shortly after the call had ended.

However, before making her leave, she had managed to heave his limp body into an open van, leaving Cas to the mercy of the blizzard outside. Snow, frigid and wet, had begun to fall onto his already numb skin and stuck to his eyelashes. The cruel wind stung his cheeks and no amount of licking could soothe his cracked, bleeding lips.

His dirty fingers twitched at his side and the gashes on his hands were hot and itchy with infection. Words alone could not describe just how much pain Castiel was experiencing. His kidnapper had been very precise while hitting Cas, making sure that his injuries tormented him but could not kill him. She had tortured him for hours, relishing in his cries and pleas for her to end his life.

It wasn't the beatings or her refusal to end his suffering that caused Castiel such endless pain- it was the things she had said to him. She told him that he would never be loved again, that Sam and the other Dean Winchester couldn't care less about saving such a pathetic man. She mocked his broken heart and would laugh at how he flinched whenever she spoke of his deceased husband.

She made it sound as though his Dean were still alive, that she had seen and spoken with him on numerous occasions. She told Cas that his Dean was just out of his reach and that there was no way he could possibly get him back.

But the words that had really taken a toll on him- those five sentences that still rang in his ears: "He never loved you. If he had, your Dean would be here right now. He would have gone to hell and back just to return to you. Tell me, is he here, Castiel? No, he isn't, because he would rather stay dead than see what you've become."

Cas couldn't cry for he had no tears left, but, oh, how he wanted to. He wanted it all to be over, for everything to just end. He didn't want to be in pain anymore; he felt that he couldn't bear much more. But most of all, Castiel wanted Dean. His Dean. He needed to feel his touch again, to hear the sound of his hunter's voice one more time.

 _Cas._

He closed his eyes, the sharp pang of grief in his heart stabbing at his chest. That voice...it sounded as though it were being whispered to him, right in his ear. Just listening to such a sweet and longing voice hurt more than anything else he'd endured. "Dean?" he whispered. The only response was the howling of the wind and the silence of the dark.

Within the dream world, his angelic counterpart was looking down at Dean's sleeping form, worry blossoming within him. ' _What if he doesn't want to see me?'_ Cas thought. His hand inched over to Dean's shoulder, hovering over the hand print the angel had branded the hunter with so many years ago.

' _It doesn't matter if he doesn't want to see you, you have to talk to him. He has to know,'_ Cas told himself. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Cas leaned down and pressed his hand against the hand print. He closed his eyes and focused on entering Dean's mind.

The process felt a bit like swimming through a current, but Castiel managed to break through. He stumbled a little then looked around once he'd regained his bearings. He was back in the bunker's library. At first, he was confused, thinking that he had failed and was back in his world, until he saw Dean sitting at one of the desks.

The feelings he had experience when he had first seen Dean again struck at him with a nearly overwhelming force and the angel had to restrain himself from leaping at Dean and hugging him with all his might. ' _That,_ ' Castiel realized, _'would end up killing him since I have angelic strength. It's better to not do that then.'_ He could hear faint mumbling and took a few steps closer. Once he saw the hunter's expression, he froze mid-step.

Cas could see tracks of past tears on Dean's cheeks and heard the thickness in his voice. Dean appeared to be speaking to someone in front of him, but whoever it was, he or she was invisible to Cas. "...wish I didn't have to leave," Dean was saying, "They really are broken up about their Dean's death."

Cas frowned slightly, his ears pricking in interest. "I get that me being there is a real pain in the ass, but I don't want to just leave them without at least trying to help them out. Family don't end in blood, right?" Dean continued. He shook his head and wiped his face with his hand. He gulped as he noticed how badly he was shaking.

When Cas looked closer, he could see the expression of hopelessness on the hunter's face. Dean laughed bitterly and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm doing a real piss job of it. I haven't done anything but cause more problems. Sam might have warmed up to me but that was only because Cas was taken," he said.

Castiel's heart jumped a little at the sound of his nickname, yet he somehow he knew that Dean wasn't referring to him. Dean sighed and his shoulders slumped. Cas resisted the urge to hug him again and took a few steps closer. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Cas," Dean whispered.

The angel paused, his eyes widening. Had Dean acknowledged his presence? He opened his mouth to speak, but Dean looked up at the figure seemingly standing in front of him. "I gotta find him, Cas! He's been through so much to die now! Hell, they both have! They don't deserve to suffer anymore," he said in a rough tone.

He sounded so distraught and defeated. Cas longed to comfort the hunter, but there was something inside of him that told him to stay put. "I...it's so weird being around them. It's like I'm back home," Dean suddenly whispered, "But there's something off about it. With that Sam, I have to- _**need**_ to- protect him, like I would Sammy. I get so confused sometimes because I forget that he isn't real. He isn't my little brother.

"With the other you...it's a bit different. It feels like I've dug up all these...sappy emotions and thoughts from deep within myself. I don't know how I...," he trailed off. He put his head in his hands. Castiel's heart was on hyper-drive, fluttering like a mad hummingbird. What was Dean saying? The hunter suddenly was on his feet and was angrily throwing things from the desk.

Cas watched him with wide eyes of concern as Dean trashed the room. Dean stumbled and fell back, landing on his arse with his hands flat on the ground behind him. His mask of anger broke and his lower lip trembled. He curled in on himself and let out a heartbreaking sob. "You're not even here," he said, "You're just a figment of my imagination and you can't hear me. I'm alone."

Dean suddenly looked up at the ceiling with tears flying down his cheeks. His eyes flashed and he punched the floor. "I thought you could hear my prayers, you feathered bastard?! Well, I'm prayin' and you're not here! I need you...with me," he shouted, his voice softening into a harsh whisper. Dean let his head droop and his fist loosened.

Cas had heard enough. His heart was about to break and he was just standing there listening! But before the angel could utter a single syllable, he was jerked out of the library by an unseen force. His stomach dropped and he had the sensation of falling. A sick feeling of nauseousness threatened to empty his vessel's stomach contents. He slammed onto something with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

"Cas! Cas, wake up!" Sam was saying. Cas could feel hands shaking him roughly. His eyes flew open and he gasped for air. Sam hurriedly helped the angel sit up, patting his back in an attempt to help him breathe. Anger filled Castiel and he grabbed Sam by the collar, pulling him close. "Why did you wake me?" he growled.

To his surprise, Sam looked back at him with pure fear in his eyes. Cas relaxed his grip, all anger dissipating. "Sam, what is it?" he asked. Sam took in a gulping breath; he appeared to have been running before awakening Castiel. The angel let Sam have a few moments to catch his breath.

"Did-did you talk to Dean?" Sam managed to say between gasps. Cas frowned and squinted his eyes a little. "What? Why? What happened?" he asked. Sam's face seemed to pale and he bit his lip, grabbing the angel's arms in a fierce grip. "What did you say to him, Cas?" he asked again. Cas was getting increasingly more and more confused and a little frightened.

"I-I didn't get to say anything. You woke me up before I could," Cas stammered. Sam slowly nodded, loosened his grip, sitting down on the bed beside the angel. Cas looked at the taller man and felt a knot of worry begin to form in his gut. "What is going on, Sam?" he asked.

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was in the library studying rifts and I think I might have figured out what its motive is," he said. Cas sat silently, listening intently. Sam glanced over, a deadly serious expression on his face. "Dean wasn't lying when he said that the rift wanted to eat you, Cas. You would give it what it wants," he said. Cas felt a shiver of foreboding go down his spine.

"What would that be?"

"Retribution,"

Sam's hazel gaze locked onto Castiel's blue. The taller man took in a breath through his nose and let it out in a quick exhale. "It wants to get back at the other dimension. I'm assuming that its original plan didn't work out because of something that someone did in that world," he said. Castiel was already confused, so he quietly listened instead of asking questions.

"My theory is that the rift has been using the other Dean as a food source or as bait for other energy sources. And, get this, the rift can't survive without energy or without a vessel to contain it. What has the rift been using this whole time? That mirror. And through what did those seven people, plus Dean, vanish into?" Sam continued. Cas' eyes widened in understanding.

"The mirror,"

"Exactly,"

Sam's voice was beginning to elevate and his hands gestured wildly as he spoke. The more he spoke, the more animated his hands became. There were even a few times where Cas had to dodge out of the way. Sam didn't seem to notice, however, much to Castiel's dismay.

"That also explains how the other Dean was out of energy, right? The rift is practically sucking him dry! Well, what if Dean stopped feeding the rift? It would need to find food on its own, right? So, since Dean tried to reach out to us for help, he unintentionally led it straight to you. You're an angel! A celestial being! You'd give it enough power to survive for years!

"Don't you see, Cas? That's why it showed you that mirage of Dean getting tortured; it knew that you would try to save him! It's also why it got so angry when Dean stopped you. He is trying to deplete the rifts life source by starving it," Sam said.

He stopped and took in a few deep breaths. Cas took this as an opportunity to speak. "I'm not sure I understand what you're saying, Sam. Are you telling me that this rift is trying to take my power and use it as a way of revenge? Revenge against whom and for what purpose?" he asked. A sharp ringing sound was steadily increasing in his head and Cas unconsciously jerked his head, as though he had water in his ear.

Sam frowned at the angel's behavior and opened his mouth to say something when there was the sudden sound of breaking glass. Sharing a twin expression of alarm, Sam and Cas hurried from the room. As they reached the entryway to the library, the two stopped in their tracks.

Shattered pieces of glowing green glass glittered dangerously all over the floor. The other Dean, leaning precariously against the side of a grand mirror, clutching at his side. He looked up at them through heavy-lidded eyes and his breath caught in his throat.

"The rift has found a new power source. If we don't do something soon, both of our worlds...will be obliterated."

A/N: I am so excited to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Review please, my dears. I seriously appreciate the feedback and enthusiasm you all give me. It really helps me breakthrough the writer's block.


	13. Rifts and Hunters Don't Mix

A/N: Forgive me for updating so late. I've been super busy and haven't been able to do much of anything. I hope this chapter makes up for it. I worked really hard on it. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Dean jolted awake and sat up with a gasp, his arm outstretched and reaching. The foggy effects of the dream were slowly fading as he came back to reality. It had all felt so real, especially the longing throb in his chest. Dean placed a shaky hand over his heart and felt its wild, hammering thuds against his palm.

He knew that he hadn't imagined that lonely ache tugging at him from deep within himself. "Cas...were you there? I thought I could feel you, but I guess I was just being stupid," Dean murmured softly. The silence of the empty room made his stomach churn. He ran a hand through his hair and took in a deep breath.

As he exhaled, something clicked in his mind. Dean frowned in thought and stared at the ceiling. If he hadn't imagined his angel's presence, Castiel would have figured out a way to make contact with Dean. Knowing Cas like he did, Dean realized that something must've prevented Cas from completing his mission.

A chorus of emotion fluttered through him; Cas was trying to get him back. That meant that Sam was helping. They did care and they were worried about him. Worry and guilt wormed their way into the warm and relieved cloud, making Dean also understand that he had managed to put his family in danger. Again.

Groaning, Dean covered his face with his hands. ' _How long have I even been here?'_ he thought. Frowning, he counted back the days, using his fingers as aids, and realized that he had been here for only a few days. To the hunter, it felt like he'd been there for years.

Dean listened to the silence of the house and decided to try to replay the course of events that had taken place during his stay in the mirror's dimension. He sat there on the other Sam's bed, contemplating any details he might have missed or any that held some significance. Everything seemed like a blur and, for a split second, Dean thought he'd forgotten something important.

' _Back to the place where it began, your angel will fall again_.'

Dean's face scrunched up in befuddlement; why had he chosen now of all times to remember that stupid riddle? He was about to shove the thought away when he paused. If he'd been in one of those cartoon shows young Sammy used to watch, he would surely have a light bulb shining brightly above his head.

"The sicko must have meant Cas. The kidnapper took away the Castiel from this dimension. I met that Cas...in that fucking alleyway! That's where I fell from the rift, where all this crap started! Cas has to be in that alleyway, in one of those locked places!" Dean exclaimed, leaping to his feet animatedly.

Then he remembered what Sam had said. He sat down again, his thumb brushing absently across his lower lip. Dean was stumped again and it irritated the hell out of him. Grumbling under his breath, he decided to go downstairs to check over that riddle one final time.

As he descended the creaky wooden staircase, an ominous impression that something was terribly amiss struck him. "Sam?" There was no answer. His heart beginning to thump faster in his panic, Dean quickened his step and nearly tumbled down the few final steps. The taller man was no where to be seen.

"Sam? Where are you?" Dean called out again, cursing the note of panic in his voice. If he hadn't been standing still, he might not have heard the small exhausted whimper from the other side of the room. Rushing towards the sound, Dean discovered Sam curled in the fetal position behind the armchair with the phone clutched in his right hand.

"Sammy! Sam, hey, can you hear me?" Dean slid to the floor beside Sam, his knees burning from the action. Sam looked up at the hunter with emotionless eyes then went back to staring at the phone. He didn't say a word as Dean checked him for any signs of injury. A single steady tear trailed down Sam's cheek.

"Sam, wha-?"

"Cas,"

Dean froze. The way Sam had said his friend's name...Dean frowned and caught the droning of the dial tone from the phone. Putting two and two together, the shorter man felt the color drain from his face.

"He called," Sam said in the same unfeeling, flat voice, "A woman took him. I failed. Riddle means nothing. He's going to die. No one left." A series of chills shivered through Dean as Sam repeated this mantra in an empty tone. It sounded like the younger of the two had lost his mind, speaking with a sort of tick that made the hairs on Dean's arms to stand up.

He did not like Sam's behavior, but he refused to let him see how badly it affected him. Reaching over, Dean pried the phone from Sam's death grip and placed it back on its perch beside the television. Then he gently grasped Sam by the shoulders and lifted him into a sitting position.

It was more difficult than Dean had expected and he let out a harsh grunt at Sam's dead weight. "Okay," he panted, "Sam, listen to me. You need to tell me what happened when I was asleep." Sam's head bobbled to the side and Dean carefully brought it back up, watching as Sam's eyes lifted to meet his.

For a moment, there was nothing but an empty glazed over look in those hazel depths. Then recognition sparked and Sam took in a sharp, shuddering breath. He glanced around as though he didn't know where he was then looked back over at Dean. "I- when did you get down here?" he asked.

Instead of answering, Dean jerked his head towards the telephone. "Cas called?" he said. Sam seemed genuinely startled then rubbed his hand over his face with the ghost of his previous exhausted expression. "Yeah, yeah," he said clearing his throat, "He tried to warn me not to go looking for him. Said that it was a trap. Then this woman came on the line...

"She asked if I had figured out that riddle yet and I thought I had the answer. But before I could even say anything, she said that I was wrong and that Cas was suffering and dying because of me."

He had to take a few moments to compose himself. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and his mouth pressed into a thin line. He looked older, in a way that made uneasiness knot in Dean's stomach. Taking a few deep breaths, Sam reopened his eyes.

"She told me that she was moving locations. Then...then she said that my brother says hello," Sam said. A tense silence filled the air as Sam finished talking and Dean cleared his throat rather obnoxiously. "Dean, I heard him. I heard Cas dying. I don't care what he says or where she moves him to. We've gotta get him back," Sam said, tears welling up in his eyes again, "He's the only family I've got left. I can't lose him, too."

Of course, Dean understood completely. That wasn't the issue. What bothered Dean and rendered him speechless was the words the woman had spoken to Sam. ' _Your brother says hello...Does that mean that Dean is alive_?' he thought. If that were the case, then that meant the woman had to be some sort of supernatural being that could communicate with the dead.

Unless...Dean stood abruptly, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard with deadly concentration. Sam, who had seen the same expression on his own Dean, quickly scrambled up to follow. Spinning on his heel, Dean went over to the table and picked up the note.

After rereading the riddle thrice, Dean realized, with a jolt, that he had been right; the kidnapper had been talking to him. Or rather, she was referring to the Dean from this dimension. Somehow, she had figured that, by contacting him, the other Dean would get the message. She must have thought that the two were linked.

"That explains the weird detached feelings I've been having," he muttered. Sam sent him a puzzled look, which Dean ignored. ' _It explains much more than just my emotions,'_ he realized, ' _It explains why I keep thinking about my Cas and all those sappy feelings. It explains why I'm able to feel injuries that aren't really there and why I'm so damn tired_.'

But what he couldn't understand was how he could possibly have linked with his doppelgänger. Dean couldn't recall ever meeting the replica since his landing in this world. He had only met Cas and Sam. The only other thing that could even remotely come close to being considered another meeting would be the...

Dean slammed his hand on the table, scaring Sam so bad, the taller of the two jumped about five feet. "The fucking shadow thing that tossed my ass in here must've been your Dean," he said. When he looked at Sam excitedly, he found him staring at Dean like he'd gone crazy. Rolling his eyes, Dean motioned for Sam to sit down, which he did.

"Remember when I said that something from the mirror shoved me through?" Dean asked. When Sam nodded, Dean slammed his hand on the table again. "It had to have been your brother!" Sam could not have looked more confused if he tried. So, Dean explained in vigorous detail about the strange emotions and feelings he had been having since he'd set foot in the dimension.

Sam listened intently, though his expression only slightly shifted from confused to concerned. "Okay, before you punch the poor dining room table again, I have a question. How could my brother have formed a link with you if he's dead?" he asked. Dean opened his mouth then closed it again. He didn't have a single clue.

Thunder suddenly boomed loudly, shaking the windows of the house. Sam and Dean would never admit that they both yelped like startled little girls, no sir. The high pitched screams and the ninja stance from Dean were both very masculine reactions. Ask anyone and they'd tell you the same.

After the two recovered from their manly poses of cowering in fear, Sam got up and looked out the window. Rain was pounding viciously from the sky and was melting the few inches of snow that blanketed the ground. Dean peered over Sam's shoulder and watched the rain fall.

"Dean," Sam said suddenly, "if what you're saying is true and you think that my brother might still be alive, then we really have to find Cas. She could be using him as bait." Dean nodded in agreement, a serious expression tightening his features. Then, for some reason, an image of Castiel, the angel, popped into Dean's mind.

A sense of overpowering longing, fear, and desperation came over him so strongly that tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He shut them and bit the inside of his cheek to stifle the whimper rising in his throat. Dean was worried for the angel's safety, though he was unsure as to why.

Surely Cas was safe in their world. The woman- or whatever she was- couldn't possibly reach him and Sam, right? Although Dean told himself that, worry still gnawed at his belly and he, without thinking, sent a prayer. He had been doing so a lot lately, so it didn't feel too unnatural.

 _Cas._

 _I miss you._

Dean's entire being froze. Had he just heard...what he thought he heard? It sounded like Cas' voice. But that was impossible. Cas couldn't be here. He was back on the other side of the mirror. Shaking his head, the hunter felt a stab of disappointment in his chest, followed by a tugging sensation.

 _Dean._

He definitely hadn't been hearing things. His heart sped up and he nearly fell to his knees. "You were there. I knew I'd felt you," Dean whispered. Sam barely paid attention to Dean muttering to himself for something outside had caught his eye. A bright green circle of light had appeared some distance away, swirling ominously in the sky like a portal.

Before Sam could inform Dean of his sightings, a shock wave rumbled through the house so violently that they both flew back, each landing hard enough to pass out cold. The phone tumbled to the floor, its dial tone loud in the now eerily silent room. Shards of broken glass littered the floor as the window burst from the celestial scream screeched from the outside.

What the unconscious hunters did not know was that, a few hours before the portal appeared, the three people on the other side of the mirror had been locked in a heated discussion. Once the other Dean's words had left his lips, Castiel and Sam had both looked at him with identical expressions of dread.

"What do you mean by obliterated?" Sam asked as he and Cas both hurried to the collapsing Dean's side. The injured man wheezed out a breathy reply that neither of the two could decipher. They got Dean onto the couch and propped him into a sitting position. His face was ghostly pale and had beads of sweat glistening on his skin.

"Sam, get him something to eat and drink. He needs to recover his energy," Castiel said, kneeling beside Dean. Sam hesitated for a moment and the angel sent him a sharp look. "Now, Sam!" he barked, his voice filled with authority. Normally, Sam would stubbornly refuse to follow an order, but he turned tail and hurried to the kitchen like an obedient puppy.

Turning his attention on the wounded Dean, Cas noticed that the back of the hunter's head was bleeding profusely. "Shit," he growled. Head injuries were almost always fatal or they ended in a concussion. The angel gritted his teeth; such injuries also took a great deal of his angelic energy to heal.

At the sound of Dean's pitiful groan of pain, Cas placed a hand on the hunter's cheek and focused. He could physically feel the ebb of his grace and, after the deed was complete, Cas slumped to the floor with sweat soaking through his clothes. He took deep, calming breaths and allowed his head to loll onto his shoulder.

"Hey,"

"Hmm?"

Cas looked up at the sound of Dean's voice. His throat constricted at the warm, loving green gaze met his eyes. "You didn't have to do that, you know," Dean said. Cas bristled and he found enough strength to pull himself onto the couch next to the hunter. Dean followed his movements with concerned yet amused eyes.

"Of course I had to do that! You were hurt and were dying," Cas snapped. To his shock, Dean threw his head back and laughed. It was more weak and breathy than the other time he'd laughed in front of Castiel, but it was the same nonetheless.

"You're just like my Cas at home," Dean murmured as he came down from his chuckle fit, "Always fussing over me, making sure that I had everything that I need, even yelling at poor Sammy." He trailed off, a nostalgic, wistful expression on his face. Castiel tilted his head, watching the hunter with unabashed curiosity.

"I've been to your home," Cas said without thinking. Dean glanced at him incredulously. The angel wanted to halt his words, but they spilled from his lips like an open floodgate. "I have the ability to walk in other people's dreams. I ended up in your dimension while attempting to walk in my Dean's dreams," he began, "I saw the photos you hung in your hallway.

"There are three bedrooms, though one of them was locked and I couldn't gain access to it. Another was at the end of the hallway, but something had gone terribly wrong in that room. It looked like there had been a great battle and a piece of wood covered a window. For what reason, I don't know, but-," Cas didn't get another chance to continue for Dean had gripped his arms in a tight vise.

His eyes were huge and panicked and his breaths were coming out in fearful pants. "Was there anyone in that room? Did you see someone?" he asked in a sharp voice. Cas stared at the panicking Dean and shook his head mutely. The hunter slumped back onto the couch and covered his face with his hands.

Castiel could hear him whispering the word 'no' over and over under his breath. Sam chose that moment to walk in, his arms full with three beers and a sandwich. He sent Cas a questioning look, but the angel quickly shook his head. Quietly, Sam set the things in his hands onto the coffee table and sat down on the other side of Dean.

"Hey, Dean, you okay?" he asked softly. Dean slowly dragged his hands down his face and blew out a breath. "She's taken Cas," he said flatly. The angel and Sam both sat up straighter with twin looks of shock. Dean hung his head and pressed his fingers to his temples.

"I know exactly what she's doing," he muttered, "She knows that I will try to save him and she knows that your Dean will do the same. Cas is being used as bait for both of us. And...and you, Castiel."

Cas frowned; Sam's theory was clicking into place. One look at the long-haired hunter showed that he felt the same. Dean glanced over at the beer and grimaced. "I'm not complaining, but do you have anything else besides beer?" he asked. Sam nearly had an aneurysm.

"You don't want beer? Are you sure you're Dean Winchester?" he asked. Dean visibly looked pained as he took the beer from the table. He held it in his palm for a moment, staring intently as the condensation slid down the side. Clenching his teeth, he popped open the bottle using his ring and chugged about half of its contents.

Sam and Cas both drew back in confusion as Dean's expression of relief instantly shifted to overwhelming guilt. He set the bottle down as far away from him as he could and sat back, covering his eyes with the heels of his palms. "I shouldn't have liked that so much," he muttered.

Cas tilted his head. "Why do you not want to have the beer?" he asked. Sam sent the angel a sharp look that clearly said 'don't ask that'. Before Cas could apologize, a bitter smile curled up Dean's lips. "You ever wonder why that door was locked?" he asked.

Cas quietly voice his response of 'yes' and Dean chuckled dryly. "That was my room," he said, "Now, I know what you're thinking: I thought you and Cas were married? Shouldn't you have shared a room? We are and we did, but I was also having an affair with all the alcohol we had in the house.

"It had been a rough couple of weeks and I had decided to have a few drinks to calm my nerves. Well, my brain decided that it meant the whole liquor cabinet as a small amount. Long story short, I got drunk and did something that I will never forget or forgive myself for. I moved out of our room and didn't even get a chance to make things right because that whole shit with the rift happened.

"Now, I've gotta save Cas, even if it's what the rift wants," Dean finished. The bunker was quiet as no one spoke. Sam cleared his throat after a few moments, drawing the attention to him. "The rift also wants our Cas. It could be a lure for both of you and for him. I'm not sure it's wise for you to go back," he said.

Castiel, who had been quiet for some time, finally looked up at Sam and the other Dean. Sam knew from the moment the angel's blue gaze of resolve rested on him that there would be no changing his mind. "I will go with Dean back to his dimension. We will find our Dean there and inform him of our findings and theories. If we can defeat the rift, then Dean and I will return home and the other one can stay in his," he said.

Cas turned his attention on Dean, ignoring Sam's beginning protests. The hunter was looking at the angel with an unreadable expression. "Can you get me into the mirror?" Cas asked. Dean nodded warily, glancing at Sam. The taller hunter looked as though he had just bitten into a lemon.

"Sam," Cas said, "I need you to watch the energy levels of the mirror and make sure that nothing goes wrong during Dean and my passage. Can you do that?" Sam threw his hands up in defeat and nodded. Cas sighed in relief and looked over his shoulder at the mirror. It stood coldly watching them, its shiny glass surface shimmering in the light.

"Cas, I-,"

"I'll be careful, Sam,"

The younger of the Winchesters snapped his mouth shut with his brows furrowed. ' _Jeez, I can't even try to talk him out of it,'_ he thought in annoyance. He pondered for a minute then his face relaxed in realization. Of course he wouldn't be able to convince Cas to stay; it was Dean they were talking about saving.

The angel would give everything thing in his power to get him back. No amount of persuasion would convince him otherwise. He was just as stubborn as Sam when it came to his love for his brother. Then again, Castiel held a different sort of love for Dean, one that could've even surpassed Sam's.

So, with that in mind, Sam stood by as the other Dean and Castiel grabbed each other's hands and stepped through the mirror. As their physical forms vanished from his view, Sam closed his eyes and bowed his head. He prayed that he'd used good judgement and that he hadn't just let them face death without a fighting chance.

Within the mirror, Cas had almost immediately fell to the glass floor. Dean, thanks to the angel's healing, had enough strength to hoist the half comatosed man up against his hip and wrapped his arm around the hunter's shoulder. "Come on, angel, I've got you," he murmured. He could feel the smooth, coldness of the item hidden in the inner folds of his jacket bump against his ribs.

Dean smiled and held on to Cas tightly as he opened the portal into his dimension. At the entrance, he hesitated; he hadn't ever tried to return for he had always figured that it would cause a rip in time or something. Nervousness curled within his belly and part of him wanted to back out.

But, looking at the stirring angel in his arms, Dean knew that he could do no such thing; his baby was waiting for him and there was no way in hell that anything, not even self-doubt, would keep Dean away any longer. He clenched his jaw and jumped into the portal, hearing Castiel's true voice screech in terror as they plummeted into the other side of the mirror.

A/N: I am, again, so very sorry for the wait. Between the weather and my internet glitching up, I just haven't found the time to update. But I will seriously put the pedal to the metal for next chapter. Thanks so much! I love you guys!


	14. Upcoming Battle

A/N: Another chapter for this story...I've gotta say, even though this isn't my best, I've learned a lot from writing this. Now, I could get all sentimental and everything, but I forgot that there are no chick flick moments. :3 Without further ado! Disclaimer: I do own Supernatural

All was still within the world of the mirror. The storm had dwindled into a light rain with the occasional rumble of soft thunder. The monsters, who walked the abandoned city streets, stirred uneasily at the overhanging sense of disquiet. The entire city of Portland, Oregon was a tribunal of penance.

A strange electric atmosphere hung over the inhabitants of the world, growing stronger with each passing hour. It made the vile virus within the monsters' blood to boil, fueling the madness inside. Some of them had even began to strike at others while stumbling around like drunken beasts of rage. The monsters moved slowly, drawn to the leftover energy of the swirling portal that had finally closed.

It also had affected one of the groaning figures that lay crumpled in an icy snow bank. He twitched and clenched his jaw hard enough to pop the joints, thus inciting a terrible ringing in his ears that only fueled the adrenaline-like sensation in his veins. His fingers curled and clutched at the hard snow, causing a few fingernails to break. Blood stained the snow and the metallic scent slowly brought Dean back to his senses.

"Cas?" he rasped, pushing himself up. Panting, the other Dean looked around for the angel. As the evening approached, the red and orange light of the sun painted the streets and shadows stretched over the edges of buildings. The clouds from the storm were dyed different colors as the sun set. Dean blinked against the glare of the low hanging sun and spotted a square of beige peeking out from under the white snow.

Slipping on the slick ice, the other Dean scrambled over to the fluttering cloth and started pawing through the frigid softness of snow. As the rest of the trench coat came into view, a shred of panic churned in the hunter's gut. Grunting with effort, the other Dean gripped the angel under the armpits and lifted.

The action caused a burst of agony in his chest so powerful it made him lose his grip and fall backwards. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a hand gingerly against his chest. When he pulled his palm away, it was wet and sticky. The other Dean's eyes shot open and he glanced down.

Dark red blood soaked through the green cotton material of his t-shirt; his wounds- the ones that had killed him initially- had reopened. Fear, jolting and powerful, had Dean turning the angel over onto his back and shaking his still form frantically. "Cas? Castiel, come on, man. Wake up!" he shouted. He could feel himself getting weaker by the second and it frightened him enough to make him desperate.

Straddling the angel, the other Dean reared his hand back and punched him as hard as he could. Even though Cas' head turned to the side, it was like Dean had punched a wall of steel. His mouth open in a silent groan of pain, he grabbed his throbbing hand and fell to the side, landing in the snow. Darkness clawed at the edges of his vision and it had become difficult to breathe.

Wheezing, the other Dean stared up at the sky, watching streaks of fuchsia collide with the pink, red and orange clouds of the sunset. Stars could be seen faintly through the color bomb, even the moon was peeking its face out from behind a cloud of golden light. It was a beautiful sight and it made the other Dean realize that he would never see anything like it again.

A tear brimmed at the corner of his eye then slid down his cheek slowly. It dripped onto the snow beneath Dean's head. The cold, wetness of the snow seeped into his clothes and skin, sending a seizure of tremors to rack his frame. He closed his eyes, feeling the light sprinkling of rain mist his heated skin, and was about to surrender to the calling darkness when a surge of warmth and light engulfed his soul.

All at once, the pain subsided and he was suddenly able to breathe again. Dean took a moment to take a few deep breaths, his chest heaving. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was Castiel staring down at him, his blue eyes dark with concern and panic. "Dean. Are you alright?" the angel asked. The other Dean didn't say anything; he was captivated by the being in front of him.

The way Cas was positioned above him, the sunset glowed around his outline like a multicolored aura. The glare from the sun even made what appeared to be a halo of sorts above Cas' head. In that moment, the other Dean could see the powerful, celestial being that was this Castiel. He lurched upwards and pulled the angel into a tight embrace, making Cas jump in surprise.

"Thank you," Dean breathed. He imagined that he could feel the overwhelming strength pulsing within the being he was hugging. It gave the other Dean a sense of security that he'd only ever felt with his Cas. The remembrance of his husband sent the hunter's heart clenching. He was suddenly extremely grateful and relieved to be back in his own world.

Castiel hugged him back for a few moments then tensed beneath him. "Dean...we have company," he growled in warning. The other Dean pulled away and saw the horde of monsters surrounding them on all sides. He cursed under his breath that he'd placed them in such an open space and got to his feet, pulling Cas up with him.

"Should we fight these sons of bitches or make a run for it? Cause I don't know about you, but I don't have a weapon," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. He kept his gaze locked on the hungry eyes of the monsters closest to him. He felt Cas' back bump into his. "Here," the angel said. Dean felt something cold press into his hand and felt the familiar groove of a gun.

"Where'd you get this?" Dean asked. Castiel was silent for a moment. A lizard-like creature opened its jaws, revealing rows of sharp teeth dripping with saliva. Its tongue flicked out and ran along the front row of teeth creepily. "It's my Dean's. He dropped it when you put him through here," Cas said. Dean frowned and examined the gun.

It was a TAURUS Model 92 9mm with a dark wood grip. Dean's eyes softened in recognition; this had been the same gun he'd given his Cas on their one year anniversary. Though this gun did not have his husband's initials carved into it, Dean still ran the pads of his fingers over the smooth wood. Sam had been so proud, so happy to see the people he loved the most together and content.

A sharp pang of painful nostalgia shot through Dean's chest at the memory. The muscles of his jaw clenched and angry tears pricked at the corners of his eyes; he'd missed an entire year with his family and now he might not even get the chance to see them again. All because of that damn rift. He closed his eyes, listening to the growls and screeches of the approaching monster horde.

The other Dean could very vaguely see an image of his Cas in the darkness behind his shut lids. He looked just as he had the day Dean had died: disheveled, tired, covered in blood, and eyes full of panic, fear, and most of all, love. Sam had had the same look. Seeing the amount of love in Cas' blazing blue eyes and Sam's hazel, renewed Dean's sense of vengeance. His eyes flew open, fixating with intense concentration on the enemies in front of him.

"What'll you fight with?" he asked the angel behind him. Dean could almost feel Cas' smirk. "I'm an angel. I can hold my own. Don't worry about me. When we finish these things off, let's go find your family," he said. Dean chuckled and set his feet as firmly as he could against the frozen ground. Although his original wounds had been healed, the other Dean could still feel the burning effect of the virus in his blood, fueling his desire to strike.

It had also been a long time since he'd had a good fight and the hunter within was itching to kill something. He pulled the barrel of the gun back and heard the click of a bullet lodge in place. It was like music to his ears. Just as he felt the warm pressure of Castiel's back leave his, the first swarm of monsters surged.

A couple of miles away, the other Sam Winchester was beginning to stir. When he made an attempt to lift his head, Sam immediately slammed back down on to the floor for a wave of intense dizziness threatened to overtake him. The room spun and tears blurred his vision. His stomach lurched and it took every ounce of his willpower to not vomit.

Sam inhaled sharply as a violent, pounding headache worked its way throughout the frontal lobes of his brain. He realized that he must have struck his head when the shock wave hit. Sam's head lolled to the side once he'd managed to turn over onto his back.

While the dizziness eventually ceased, the nausea and migraine remained. Groaning, Sam forced himself to his hands and knees, swaying ever so slightly. He blinked hard to try and clear the foggy film that smudged his sight. He looked over at the deathly still figure that lay a few feet away.

"D..Dean," he choked out. When he received no response, Sam began to half crawl half drag himself over to the unconscious hunter. Dean was lying with his upper body sprawled across the hardwood floor while his lower half was hidden behind the overturned table. The broken remains of one of the chairs scattered over his back and its leg was shoved beneath his left arm.

Sam collapsed beside Dean, his hair catching on the shattered wood of the chair leg. "Dean," he tried again. The hunter was silent. Fearing the worst, Sam shoved Dean's side as hard as he could. Dean moved to the side then slumped back to the floor. When Sam was beginning to believe that Dean wasn't going to awaken, he moved.

Dean shakily coughed and shifted against the tinkling glass and splinters of wood. "Sammy?" he rasped, his voice sounding like a smoker. Sam lifted his head and sighed in relief. Instead of answering, Sam reached out and grasped onto Dean's arm, squeezing in such a way to say that he was there. The glass beneath Dean scraped against the hardwood as he shifted onto his side.

"What...the hell happened?" he asked in a strained tone of voice. Sam blinked hard and looked around the room as best he could. From what he could see, the front windows of the house had shattered along with the dining room table. The table had also been forcibly thrown into the wall near the kitchen, breaking nearly in half from the impact.

Three of the chairs were lying hazardously in different parts of the living room, the fourth lay in scattered pieces all around where Dean was lying. Sam assumed that it had crashed into the back of the couch, where it broke. Sam's fatigue was gradually fading, much to his relief, and he was beginning to recollect what had occurred earlier.

"We got hit with a shock wave. I think it must've been because of that portal outside," he began with a befuddled frown. Dean shook his head to clear it and clamped a hand over his eye, wincing in pain. He stiffened at Sam's comment and turned his head slowly to stare at the younger of the hunters. Sam caught the look Dean was giving him and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Where did you see the portal?" Dean asked seriously. Sam blinked, taken aback, then gestured towards the sky. A dark look glinted in the green of Dean's eyes. "Why? Does it mean something to you?" Sam asked. He was growing increasingly more concerned by the expression on the other brother's face.

Dean pursed his lips and furrowed his brows in concentration. "What color was the portal?" he asked. Sam looked over in surprise, his face scrunching up in befuddlement. "Green. Dean, what is it? What aren't you telling me?" he asked. Dean looked as though he was about to be sick. "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

Sam paused for a moment, trying to piece together the hidden clues. His eyes flicked from side to side as he thought, his brow knitted in confusion. Then, suddenly the answer clicked. Sam sucked in a breath and he turned to look at Dean.

"That was the same portal that took you here," he said in a shushed tone. Dean gulped and nodded slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. Sam reared back with an 'oh crap' sort of look. But something still didn't make sense. Sam frowned.

"But why is that a bad thing? Surely that means you can leave, right? You can go home?" he asked. Dean just barely caught the flinch Sam's words had caused. It wasn't that Dean didn't want to go home- on the contrary, he wanted to go back to Sam...and Cas with every fiber in his being. It was because he hadn't done what he'd promised; the Cas from this world was still missing.

"I don't know what it means. But I've got a bad feeling in my gut. Something is going to happen," he heard himself saying. Sam seemed thoughtful and rubbed at his beard distractedly. Dean, forgetting the situation they were in for a moment, flicked his eyebrows up in amusement. Sam caught his look of mirth and scoffed.

"How is that funny to you?" he asked in disbelief. Dean shook his head quickly and gestured with the back of his hand towards Sam's beard. The other Sam looked down at his still moving hand and stopped abruptly. His cheeks reddened in embarrassment and let his hand fall back into his lap. "I do that when I'm nervous, okay? My Dean made fun of me, too. He used to tell me to shave all the time," he mumbled.

Dean chuckled and Sam managed to smile at him. Then, the moment was gone, leaving a tense, awkward silence in its wake. "So, uh, Sam," Dean began haltingly, "I was wondering...ah, never mind." The other Sam sat up and gazed at Dean curiously, urging him to continue his question. Dean scratched at the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"I was wondering if, when we get Cas back, if you-," he stammered, "I-I know that me being here was hard for you both and me leaving isn't going to be much better. I guess what I'm asking is will you two be alright?" Sam's eyes were soft with sadness and understanding. He reached over and put a hand on Dean's knee, making the other brother jump.

"We'll be fine, Dean. You're right; you being here was hard and you had the worst timing ever. But I'm glad that we got to know you. You helped fill that void of emptiness we'd been feeling," Sam said, "I hadn't heard Cas laugh in a long time and you were the one who made that happen. I felt like I had my brother back and, because of that, it isn't going to hurt as much when you leave. Cause we can say goodbye this time."

Dean stared at him, green eyes wide and shocked. Sam just caught a glimpse of the tears welling up before Dean turned away, covering his face with his hand. Sam blinked in surprise then grinned. "Dude, are you crying?" he teased. He heard a sniffle and saw Dean paw at his eyes, wiping the tears away. "Hell no. I got some dust in my eyes, that's all," Dean muttered.

"Uh huh, sure. You know, it's okay to cry,"

"Shut your face,"

Sam laughed quietly and stretched out his limbs, relieving the aching pressure that had been building up in his joints. As a comfortable quiet fell over the room, a series of sounds very faintly could be heard in the distance. Sam sat up straight, straining to listen to the noises. Dean, who'd composed himself, was listening as well.

"Are...are those gunshots?" he asked eventually. When Sam's bright, hopeful eyes locked onto Dean's, the hunters sprang into action. Any sense of their previous fatigue vanished and the two brothers were rapidly strapping on weapons and tugging on jackets. Dean's leg injury, which had scabbed over at this point, sent sharp pulses of dry pain with every movement.

Although they remained silent while they prepared to investigate the noises, Sam and Dean were holding an entire conversation with their eyes alone. Both were aware that the gunshots might not have belonged to Cas, but both hunters refused to give up on the chance that they did. A tiny part of Dean held a spark of hope that it was his angel or even Sammy.

Sam also held his own spark that the shots belonged to his brother; the woman who's kidnapped Cas had hinted that his Dean was still alive. Even though his mind told him that it was impossible and he was clinging onto something that could never be, his heart kept cheering his thoughts on. Dean watched as Sam picked up the machete that he'd held against his throat when they'd first met.

In that moment, Dean was reminded, with a jolt, that if the feeling in the pit of his stomach was correct, Dean would never see this Sam again. Without thinking, Dean strode over to Sam and pulled him into a hug. Sam stiffened for a moment in surprise then hugged back, his long arms looping around Dean's shoulders.

After a few more moments, they pulled away and met each other's gaze. "Ready?" Dean asked. Sam caught on to his hidden meaning and nodded solemnly. Dean returned the nod and loaded the gun in his hand with a loud click. "Alright. Let's go get our family back," he said. The corner of Sam's mouth quirked up into a smile of agreement.

As they opened the front door, the monstrous horde of beasts that lingered outside the abandoned grocery store turned in the boys' direction. A shiver of fearful recognition trembled throughout the monsters as the Winchesters began to walk towards them. The virus within held the creatures in place, even made a few snarl in challenge.

The monsters knew that they could not flee even if they wanted to. Death was on the menu and it was the horde that was the main dish. The Winchester brothers were the servers. The shorter of the two men, with his powerful jaw clenched and a steely glint to his eyes, raised his gun and aimed it at the mass of beasts.

Meanwhile, the rift was pacing the floor, her heels making rapid clicks. "I don't understand. Why are they surging? The virus should have died out of their systems by now. What is making it active?" she hissed. Her energy churned uneasily and she had almost lost her control over her vessel several times because of it.

' _What's the matter, bitch? Getting scared?_ ' the annoying voice in her head piqued. The rift snarled and shoved the presence away fiercely, earning a yelp. Unfortunately for her, the voice did not leave. _'Aw, you were so close. Try again,'_ it jeered. "You are most tedious, you know that?" the rift growled. There was a triumphant laugh that echoed in the rift's mind.

Had she had known that her vessel would regain consciousness once she'd lost control the first time, the rift would have found a different one. Charlie, the owner of the voice and the body, held on like an embedded burr that no amount of shaking could remove. The rift had grown used to having the body and mind to herself; Charlie was a major interference.

Shaking her head, the rift continued to pace. She used every ounce of her concentration to block out Charlie, who had begun to hum a ridiculous, repetitive rhythm. The rift gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. Charlie seemed to notice that the song bothered the being possessing her body and sang louder and more obnoxiously.

"ENOUGH! WHAT IS THIS IDIOTIC MELODY YOU'RE SPEWING?!" the rift roared, her eyes glowing bright green. When Charlie didn't answer right away, the rift relaxed. She was certain that she had managed to silence the woman within her mind. That is, until Charlie began screeching incredulously.

"Idiotic?! Star Wars is NOT idiotic! It's like the best thing ever! How do you not know the Cantina Band theme from Star Wars?!" she said. The rift threw her hands up in defeat and her shoulders slumped. After the phone call with Sam, the rift had locked Castiel in the van and had driven not even a few feet when monsters began to ransack the vehicle.

Using her powers, the rift teleported herself and the barely breathing man in the rear compartment back into their original location. She cursed loudly and slammed her fist against the rickety crates lining the wall of the warehouse, splintering the box into tiny pieces. Charlie quieted with a squeak.

The rift didn't bother to feel relieved at the sudden silence; her plan was shot and she was now at risk of being found. She sat on one of the unharmed crates and put her head in her hands. She knew that the Winchesters were not stupid and that Sam had figured out her riddle. The rift had heard it in his voice when she'd spoken to him, which was why she chose to play the sly card.

It was also why she had chosen to move to a different location. The warehouse had been too obvious of a set-up and she had realized this far too late. With Castiel nearing death quicker than she'd expected, the rift panicked and threw him into the van she'd stolen from around the corner. But the monsters, which had never bothered her before, attacked like vicious brutes and nearly tore the van to pieces.

Her energy had spiraled beyond her control after she'd used it, causing a rather agonizing experience for both the rift and for the newly conscious Charlie. The monsters that had attacked the van were now prowling the perimeter of the warehouse, occasionally making bone-chilling howls or pounding against the walls or door.

The rift trembled and wrapped her arms around herself. If she didn't figure out a way to stop the creatures soon, the Winchesters would surely find her. And if that happened, she knew deep in her core that she wouldn't survive that fight. She had worked so hard to get here; it'd be maddening to have her efforts crushed. Especially if it was because of a few pathetic humans.

Everything she had done, it would all be for nothing. She clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms hard enough to draw blood. The rift stood calmly and brushed some bits of crate from her clothes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"No. I will not fail. Dean Winchester might have managed to weaken me, but I am still strong enough to destroy his world. And," she said, suddenly smug, "I have his precious little Cas. Sam is on his way, yes, but that will only make him my prime target. After all, Dean can't live without his baby brother."

The rift suddenly remembered the recent shock wave and the supernatural scream from above that had knocked her off of her feet. Her energy had informed her that the entity she'd encountered while in the other Dean Winchester's world- the angel- had arrived. As though in reaction to her memoirs, her energy bubbled excitedly, eager to consume the power of the celestial being.

An evil grin stretched across the rift's face inhumanly as an idea popped into her head. "Dean Winchester from that other world is on his way here as well," she chuckled, "And what is an angel without his human?" She began to laugh- a guffaw that grew louder and louder until she was practically screaming.

A/N: Next chapter may or may not be the final chapter. I'll let you all know, once I post it, in the first a/n. Until then, I send you all my love and gratitude.


	15. More and More Distractions

A/N: I think I'll add two more chapters after this one. There is still more of the story to be told. And I can't sum it up in one chapter. So, here we go! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

The other Dean slammed his fist against the jaw of one of the few monsters remaining. There was a sickening snap and the monster screamed in agony. It fell to the pavement and scurried away, slipping on what snow remained. Dean watched it run, sweat beading down his face and his chest heaving. He'd run out of bullets a few hours ago, but he'd managed to still kick ass.

He turned and saw Castiel uppercut the lizard monster Dean had seen before. Its tongue was severed in half as its lower jaw slammed into his upper, driving his teeth into his brain. The lizard-like creature fell with a squelch, blood oozing from its face. The angel hadn't broken a sweat, but he was breathing heavily.

"You alright, Cas?" Dean asked. When Castiel faced him, a shiver rushed down Dean's spine. His blue eyes alight with the fire of battle, Cas looked exactly how an avenging angel should appear: bloody, deadly, and victorious. "I should be asking you that question, Dean," Cas said.

Before the angel could move to heal him, Dean shook his head and took a step back. Cas tilted his head, slightly confused, until he noticed the glow emanating from beneath Dean's shirt. The ghostly green light was slowly creeping up the hunter's neck like the lava filled crevices of an erupting underwater volcano.

Dean clenched his jaw so hard it sent a sharp jolt through the nerves of his teeth. "It's the virus I told you about. Since I'm back in my own world, the portion of it that entered my body when it exploded is responding," he explained in a strained voice, "The rift must be nearby; she holds the other half of the virus." Seeing that Castiel was confused, Dean sighed heavily.

"See," he began, "the huntress that I mentioned...she was the rift's first vessel. Charlie, she...she told me that if someone didn't absorb the virus, everything and everyone would have gone mad. Like Croatoan, man. I thought that, if I could save the people that mean the most to me and the world at the same time, I was all for dying. That's why I made sure that Cas and Sam were far away from me when we faced the rift.

"I was so damn stupid. Talking to that...that thing did _nothing_. The virus still spread and my family suffered. And to make shit even worse, I wasn't there. I put myself in that situation, without even telling them what I'd done. They still think that I died an honorable death. But it wasn't! I was an idiot and-" his words cut off abruptly as Castiel took Dean's face between his palms.

His eyes were hard and intense. "You are not to blame. You did everything that you could for your family. Even if it didn't work out the way you wanted it to, you still tried. That's all that matters. Dean," he continued in a more gentler tone, "there is still time to fix things. The rift is here and you're back. You can defeat her and be with the ones you love."

Dean stared at the angel, a buzzing feeling rising in his chest. Then, to Castiel's utter shock, he leaned forward and lightly pressed a kiss to the corner of the angel's mouth. Cas spluttered and his hands fell from Dean's face. The hunter smirked in amusement and his green eyes danced with an almost mischievous glow.

"You really are an angel," he said. Through his foggy thoughts of embarrassment, Cas could hear the renewed courage and determination in the other Dean's voice. He watched the man turn and take in their surroundings with his shoulders set and his head held high; Dean was back from his near emotional breakdown and had returned to his hunter persona.

"I recognize where we landed; we're only a few miles from my home. We might be able to make it by midnight, if we hurry," Dean said. He sounded confident and seemed to be more at ease, more in control of himself. Cas smiled, relieved. ' _If only it were that easy to talk to my Dean_ ,' he thought. He rolled his eyes a little even as a rush of affection warmed his heart.

"By the way, Castiel," Dean said suddenly. Cas snapped to attention as the hunter turned his head. The smile that lit up Dean's face nearly took Cas' breath away. "Your Dean is lucky to have you. Handsome, wise, smart- hey, that's a deluxe package all on its own. He gets bonus points cause you're an angel," he teased.

Cas tilted his head. "I'm sorry, is that...is that a form of flirtation?" he asked. Dean winked and shook his head, lifting up his hand. The silver ring nestled around his finger glinted in the sun. "No offense, buddy, but I'd rather have my own angel. I'm saying that your Dean is just as lucky a guy as I am to have found you," he said.

Before Castiel could respond, Dean tossed the borrowed gun to the blushing angel. Cas caught it with nimble fingers and clutched it to his chest. His eyes squinted in question. "No use to me anymore. 'Sides, it's not mine," Dean said. He jerked his head in the direction behind him. "Come on, angel, let's get a move on. We don't have time to be standing around out here talking about our feelings," Dean said.

Cas rolled his eyes so hard, he feared they'd pop out of his vessel's skull. "A little too late for that now, don't you think?" he muttered. Dean had just opened his mouth to retort when the nearly inaudible sound of gunshots echoed through the air. Castiel, with his angelic hearing, stood still. His heart thudding faster in his chest.

"Did you hear-?"

"Shhh!"

Dean snapped his mouth shut as Cas took a step forward, ears straining. There was only the patter of dripping snow for a moment then he heard them again. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ His feet moved on their own, drawn to the noises. Seeing the expression of desperate recognition on the angel's face, the other Dean followed him without a word.

The other Sam, who had fired the shots Cas was following, cursed under his breath as his target- a huge werewolf that looked like it's transformation had ripped through it- dodged them with inhuman speed. Though Sam's hunter instincts were on high alert, he couldn't help but wonder why a werewolf was out during the day. The sun hadn't even set yet and it wasn't a full moon.

His thoughts were interrupted as the wolf lunged. Sam batted it away with one strong and well timed kick to its chest. He was really beginning to regret attacking the horde of creatures. All hell had broken loose when Dean had raised his gun. Like a swarm of pissed off wasps, the monsters lunged at the hunters with snarling snouts and gazes alight with pure fury.

At first, the hunters decided to keep moving as they fought. From what Sam could tell, they had made it to the abandoned train station before the horde surrounded them on all sides. He and Dean fought with everything they had, but the horde seemed to be growing with every monster they struck down. Pretty soon, Sam knew that he and Dean would run out stamina. If that happened, the two might has well have served their heads on a plate.

"Sam!" Dean shouted from where he was wrestling with a harpy. The bird-like creature screeched and clawed at the hunter beneath it with ruthless anger. As Sam hurried to the rescue, he noticed something about the monsters; while their movements were deadly, they were also clumsy and focused on brute strength rather than precision.

If he didn't know any better, Sam could almost believe that the monsters...were being forced to fight. As though they were being controlled by some unseen force. As he punched the harpy away, Sam briefly made eye contact. Underlying the rage, Sam could see fear and a silent plea for help. The harpy's eyes rolled back into its head and it fell to the ground with a thud.

"Dean," Sam said, helping the hunter to his feet, "I think there's something wrong with them." Dean snorted and dusted himself off. "'Course there's something wrong with them; they're fucking monsters," he huffed. Sam shook his head and neatly sliced a large gash across a leaping goblin's chest with his machete. It gurgled out a cry and landed in a heap at Sam's feet.

Dean grunted as he slit open a Minotaur's stomach with a borrowed knife. The low bellow the bull-man creature groaned as its intestines spilled out onto the ground nearly drowned out Dean's previous reply. Sam's nose scrunched up in disgust. "Really look at them, Dean. They don't want to fight us. Something is forcing them to," he said as he kicked a rabid gnome's head clean off.

Dean frowned and took a second to really pay attention as a banshee lumbered towards him. The monster seemed slow and, when it coiled to spring at him, Dean noticed that the movements were reluctant and strained. Instead of killing the banshee, he punched it hard enough to knock it unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Dean back up until he and Sam were back to back. "You're right. How the hell am I supposed to fight these things when I can't kill them, Sam?" he said exasperatedly. Then came a sickening crunching noise from close-by. When the brothers turned to look, both immediately wished they hadn't. The werewolf that had dodged Sam's bullets had pinned an elf to the train tracks.

Its teeth, stained with blood, gnawed at the helpless creature's skull. The yellow of the werewolf's eyes seemed mucky with a glowing green light. Abruptly, the wolf howled in agony before exploding in a burst of blood and guts. Sam and Dean both yelled in alarm as they quickly recoiled. Everything went silent.

The monsters, who had been circling around the hunters, froze and stared at the gory scene. The Winchesters, too, stood and stared with twin grossed out expressions. "Holy shit," Dean breathed, "How the hell did that happen?" He looked over at Sam expectantly, but he was taken aback at the horrified recognition on the tall man's face.

"Sam?"

"I think I know what it is,"

Sam spoke so softly that Dean had to lean forward to hear him. The monsters slowly began to back away, fear breaking through the blind fury. Sam had begun to tremble, his hazel eyes wide and his pupils blown. Concerned and slightly freaked out, Dean reached out a hand and placed it on Sam's shoulder. When he jumped at Dean's touch, the hunter narrowed his eyes. "Dude, what?" he asked.

Sam took in a shuddering breath. "It's the virus, Dean. The one that the huntress released," he said in a hushed tone, "I've seen that happen before...to a vampire. But when my brother died, the effects of the virus were gradually diminishing until it eventually stopped all together. I don't know why I didn't realize it before. When the vial shattered, Dean and the huntress were right in its path. They both absorbed it."

Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to catch on to what Sam was hinting. Thankfully, Sam noticed his internal struggle. "The only way that the virus can respond is if both halves of it are active. The huntress must be the one who took Cas," he explained. Dean nodded then realization dawned on him.

"If she's alive, then that must mean that...your brother...," he said. Sam nodded and gripped at Dean's arms tightly. Tears brimmed in his eyes and a shaky, hopeful smile twitched up his lips. "Yeah. My Dean must be here. He's alive," he whispered. He said the word 'alive' as thought it were something sacred.

Seeing Sam getting emotional over his brother's possible resurrection made Dean wonder if his own Sam would react the same way. "Let's go find him then," he blurted. Sam blinked in surprise. Dean wished the other Sam would stop doing that; Dean figured that he should have earned at least a little trust from this guy.

He was about to say something else when Sam hugged him so tightly, the breath gushing out of his chest like a deflating balloon. "Thank you," Sam whispered. The sincerity of Sam's words made Dean's own eyes fill with tears. ' _Seriously, what is it about this damn dimension that makes me cry so much? I'm like a damn chick,'_ he thought.

Dean hugged Sam back then pulled away, patting the taller brother on the back. "Alright, alright. Enough sappy crap. We've got work to do," he said. He glanced around the railways and saw that all but one monster had fled. The remaining creature- a small nymph- was kneeling beside the fallen elf. It had the crushed head of the elf cradled in its lap and was slowly rocking back and forth.

Both Sam and Dean felt a stab of guilt and sympathy for the poor thing. As they walked past, Sam paused and the nymph looked up at him with wet pupil-less blue orbs. To describe the heartbreak in those eyes would be impossible. "I'm sorry," Sam said to the nymph softly. The creature was so miserable that it didn't even register the surprise it felt at the hunter's words.

It simply nodded and bent its head back over its fallen friend. Sam sighed and continued walking, looking back for a moment at the little mourning session with a heavy heart. "Winchesters." The two men turned in surprise at the wispy elegant voice that called out to them. The nymph, its lower lip trembling slightly, was looking at them with a sorrowful expression.

"End this," it said. Its voice sounded like the roaring of a waterfall mixed with the gentle rustling of leaves in a spring breeze. Sam and Dean each sent the nymph a nod of promise. The nymph stared at them for a moment, its eyes flickering with angst and a fierce desire for vengence . Although it was deathly afraid of the hunters, the nymph knew that only these humans could stand against the evil that caused her friend's demise.

When it looked back down at the fallen elf, Dean gently nudged Sam's shoulder and they trudged onward. The nymph's words echoed in their minds. "We'll go to the warehouse. It's not too far from here. Even if the huntress didn't take Cas there, we might find some sort of clue that could help find their location," Sam said, trying to distract himself.

Dean nodded, silently staring at the stretch of gravelly road in front of him. Sam continued speaking, explaining how it would only take them a few hours to reach the warehouse if they took this path or this road. Dean was only half listening. His focus was delved in his mind.

The nymph with the elf had planted an image- an image that caused uncomfortable pinpricks of pain in his chest. The image was Dean in the nymph's position, but instead of the elf in his arms, it was the angel Castiel. It reminded the hunter that his Cas was here in this world with him. Since gaining consciousness, a strong tugging sensation pulsed in Dean's heart.

Before the shock wave had hit, Dean had realized that such sensation was their profound bond reacting to the others presence. Or so he figured. Though he kept his mouth shut, Dean couldn't help but feel guilty. While his feet followed after the other Sam, his heart was telling him to go in the opposite direction- to go back to the house.

If Dean had followed his heart, he and Sam might have made it in time to see Castiel and the other Dean arrive. Castiel paused in front of the house and scanned the area around it, eyes squinting in concentration. The other Dean bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. "I feel like an old man. It's been too long since I've ran so much," he panted.

Cas barely glanced at him as the angel took a step forward. His brow furrowed in confusion. "This is your home?" he asked. Dean looked up with a small laugh. "It's been through hell and back, that's for sure. But, yeah, this is it," he said, straightening up. Castiel bit his tongue from commenting how it was physically impossible for a house to go through Hell and back.

Instead, he turned towards the other Dean, who had walked up to stand beside him. His body language suggested that the hunter was just as on guard as Castiel, but his eyes were alight with excitement. After all, his family could be alive and in there waiting for him. Moving with caution, the pair entered the house.

"What the hell...?" Dean muttered. The interior of the home had taken more damage than the exterior. Glass and splintered wood littered the floor, a broken table and chairs lay in heaps next to the torn material of the couch, the lights were out which made the house dark and eerie, and it was freezing. Castiel glanced over at the hunter to find him looking around in fearful dismay.

"Something happened here," Cas said, "Should we check the second floor?" Dean shot off like a rocket up the stairs before the angel could blink. When Cas caught up, he found himself in the same hallway as before. Every detail was the same, except for one thing: Sam's room, the one Cas had found his Dean asleep, was empty.

A rush of panic encased the angel's heart. The other Dean was standing the trashed room Castiel had seen in the dream. His hands were clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists. His shoulders and back were tense and he was shaking. "Dean?" Castiel's call was ignored. He entered the room and looked around. Nothing had changed since he'd last seen it.

"Dean, what-,"

"I didn't want to believe you,"

Castiel's eyes widened at the broken note in the other man's voice. Dean leaned down and picked up what looked like a ripped shirt. His hands were shaking wildly. "I didn't want you to be right. I didn't want to see the truth," he whispered. Castiel got the feeling that Dean wasn't just talking to him.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. He gripped the shirt in his hands tightly then turned and brushed past Castiel on his way to the hallway. Dean reached the locked bedroom and kicked the door open with one powerful snap of his leg. He went into the room and the door slammed behind him. Cas stood awkwardly, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion.

The angel could hear shuffling and banging from the room. Deciding that he wasn't going to get involved, Cas went back downstairs and explored the house in search of any sign of where his Dean had gone to. There was nothing that stood out and Cas could feel his frustration growing. A burning heat boiled in his belly; that rift had gone too far.

If she had harmed his Dean in any way, he would tear her from her vessel like a fish from the water. To fuel his anger further, his newfound friend was suffering because of what that bitch had done. It was like a triple offense to the angel; the rift had hurt both versions of Castiel's family and had the audacity to want his power. Not to mention that she was sending them on this wild goose chase.

"Hey. Let's go," Dean suddenly said from the stairs. Cas turned to find not the disheveled man he'd been traveling with, but a warrior decked out for the battle of a lifetime. Dean held a Winchester 1897 pump shotgun complete with steel barrel, sawed-off wooden grip and corrugated wooden pump. Attached to his belt in its holster was a Bowie knife, Model 401, with a Texan wood handle.

Dean grinned sheepishly. "Couldn't find anything else. The others must've cleared out the inventory," he said. Cas raised an eyebrow; of course this Dean kept weapons in his bedroom. He shouldn't have been surprised. Clearing his throat, Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar looking gun. Cas' eyes widened in recognition.

It was the same gun the angel had given to Dean during the fight, but this one had two letters engraved into its wood grip. "C.W.?" Cas questioned. A tender smile lit up the other Dean's face as he turned the gun around in his fingers. "Castiel Winchester," he said, "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" The angel pulled out his Dean's gun from his trenchcoat pocket and looked down at it.

"There was no one else upstairs and I'm guessing that there isn't anyone down here either. We had better get moving. I think I know exactly where they went," Dean said. Cas looked up from the gun and stared at Dean's back as the hunter walked past him. "How do you know?" he asked. They walked out of the house and headed in the direction of the grocery store.

"If I know Sammy, he'd go back to the place where it all began. Smart cookie like him would have figured this," Dean said holding up a piece of paper, "out in no time flat." Castiel grabbed the paper and scanned over it. The other Dean busily loaded his gun and tossed over some ammo, which Cas caught one-handed. "Is this...a riddle?" he asked, loading his Dean's gun with the borrowed ammunition. The other Dean smirked and nodded.

The angel looked up; it was dusk. Though he could not see the moon, he could only assume that it met the requirements of the riddle. "Will we get there in time, Dean?" he asked. The hunter didn't respond and just kept trudging forwards. Castiel understood what the silence meant; Dean was just as worried as he was. All they could do was keep moving and hope that they make it. Before it was too late.

A/N: I already know that this chapter was crappy. I realize that. But this one was only to get the other fill in stuff out of the way. While it is somewhat important, the next chapter will contain a more interesting factor. I deeply apologize for my lame attempt at an update. I will strive to make the next installment a better read.


	16. Unplanned Meetings

A/N: Here it is. The chapter you've all been waiting for. Where the action and the story FINALLY comes to its climax. Let's hope it doesn't disappoint. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Night had fallen quicker than the heroes thought. The darkness draped across the city and gave way to passages along its shadows. Dean and the other Sam were close to falling right where they stood from fatigue and exhaustion. Since light had faded, their path towards the warehouse had been imperceptible.

Dean gushed out a tired sigh; they'd been walking for hours. Sam had claimed that the warehouse was only a few miles away. They should have been there by now. But he didn't dare question Sam's intuition. He knew that if he did, the same answer would be spouted back at him: "Keep walking, Dean. I never said it would be a short trip."

Dean glared at the back of the other Sam's head. He was acting more and more like his own pain-in-the-ass little brother with each passing moment. Rolling his eyes, Dean tore his gaze away and set his glare instead on strip of railroad track the two were walking on. Apparently, the track led straight into the warehouse, which used to house old trains for repairs.

According to Sam, the building had closed down a few months before the monster apocalypse. Something about a recession. Dean shook his head and gulped as another body came into view. A human body. They had seen another about a mile back, wedged in between two train cars. That one had been what appeared to be an older gentleman- perhaps a conductor.

He'd been nothing but bones and a few bits of rotted flesh, so the corpse's identity was one to be debated. This body, however, still had enough meat to recognize that it had belonged to a young woman. Her long dirtied pink dress was torn down the middle, revealing her opened upper and lower torso's insides.

Dean held his breath as they passed and Sam made a small noise of revulsion in the back of his throat. He lifted his hand and covered his mouth and nose with it. The corpse was impaled on what appeared to be the remains of a track switcher. The woman's foggy, glassy eyes stared up at the Winchesters as they passed.

"That's burned in," Dean groaned, "Could've gone my whole life without seeing that." Sam remained silent, but his step had quickened and was more urgent than before. Dean, who knew his Sam better than anyone, could tell that the corpse had bothered this Sam in the same way. Finding the only other human beings in Portland deceased must have been a real slap of reality.

Sam's shoulders hunched and his hands clenched tighter into fists. Dean was right; Sam was taking it hard. The man and this woman were the icing of the cake for Sam's breaking point. One more thing and Dean was worried he'd have to stop Sam from doing something risky. He was about to reach out to comfort the replica of his younger brother when the taller of the two stopped dead in his tracks.

Dean literally skid to a halt, the heels of his boots causing ruts in the gravel. But before Dean could question why Sam had suddenly stopped, he looked up. They had finally arrived. The building was smaller than he'd expected. Which was odd, considering he thought that it would have to be bigger than the average warehouse to contain locomotives.

"So, what's the-,"

"Quiet!"

Dean snapped his mouth shut at Sam's hiss. Judging from the way Sam had his guard up along his eyes flickering with alertness, the younger brother was in hunter mode. His instincts kicked in the moment the warehouse had come into sight and now he was ready to kill whatever came his way without a second's hesitation. And it was in this moment that Dean realized that Sam- his own and this version- could be terrifying when they wanted to be.

When Sam moved forward, Dean followed suit and continuously glanced around to make sure that nothing could sneak up on them. While the place was abandoned, a few of the lights adorning the structure still flickered with power. ' _Jeez, talk about a horror movie moment,_ ' Dean thought. He could almost hear the ominous music. Now all they needed was some hot blonde chick to call out "Hello".

As they edged closer, Sam and Dean both gripped their weapons tighter. Monsters prowled around the outer walls of the building- hissing and growling with frustration. Whatever they were after, it was inside this place. Sam and Dean each tensed, ready to fight if need be. The monsters acknowledged the Winchester brothers but none seemed to take any interest. Regardless, the hunters proceeded with caution.

"She must be in there," the other Sam muttered. Dean nodded in agreement. There was a powerful energy pulsing from within those boarded walls and both men could feel the vibrations in the air. Whoever or whatever was in that warehouse was not a force to be reckoned with. Dean swallowed hard and a bead of sweat trickled down his cheek; he was nervous about the fight.

He would never tell the other Sam this, of course. But he was just a human and, while normally he'd greet death like an old friend, Dean had worked too hard to survive in this world. He wasn't going to go down without at least dealing a few fatal blows to the thing inside. What frightened him was that the thing in there would more than likely have the same mentality.

As though in response to Dean's thoughts, an eerie green glow shone through the cracks of the walls, growing brighter and brighter. The monsters all at once screeched and clawed at themselves like crazed mental patients. Sam and Dean both covered their ears when the cries of pain reached an agonizing crescendo.

One monster- a griffin- stumbled about with its wings fluttering in extreme discomfort. Its beak hung open and its tongue lolled out as it panted through the torturous agony raging within. Dean made the mistake of taking a step back thus drawing attention to himself. The griffin, crazed with pain, pounced on the hunter and pinned him to the railroad track with a ragged cry.

That simple attack caused all hell to break loose. Monsters everywhere began lashing out at one another and some even inflicted damage to themselves. "Sam! A little help here!" Dean shouted as he wrestled with the griffin. His gun lay sprawled a few feet away, but the griffin's snapping beak inches from his face and its fatally sharp claws prevented Dean from retrieving it.

"Kinda busy here!" Sam replied as he clobbered an Ahuizotl when it sprang at him. Or at least he tried to clobber the creature, but its tail's hand grabbed onto his machete and swung him into one of the old train cars. His body ricocheted off the rusty metal and he plummeted to the ground. Sam lifted his head and blurrily saw the Ahuizotl stagger towards him.

Its usually slick coat was greasy and unkempt while its five hands seemed to be cramping from walking on land for so long. It snarled with a sort of weak cry like a lost child's wail and reached to grab the disoriented Sam to drag him towards it. Sam tried to scramble away, but his head was so plagued with dizziness that any to all movement made his world tilt.

He felt three of the Azhuizotl's hands grab onto his arms and Sam felt a surge of panic. He could hear Dean's shouts and realized that there was no way the replica of his brother could rescue him in time. Sam closed his eyes and fought against the monster's grip with all the strength he had. Teeth snapped inches from his face and hot, sickly breath blasted over his skin.

Then, all at once, the air was clear and Sam could no longer feel the bruising pressure on his wrists and neck where the monster's fingers had been. He heard a series of yelps and low grunts a few paces away from where he lay. There were more yells from Dean and a couple gunshots. Sam opened his eyes and, with what he could see, the glow had faded and all of the monsters that weren't dying or dead already had collapsed where they stood.

To Sam's great relief, the dizziness was also gradually diminishing only to be replaced with a pounding headache in its wake. He was crouching on his hands and knees when he heard footsteps coming towards him. Sam tensed up, ready to fight. The steps halted a few inches away.

"Are you alright?"

That voice...Sam very slowly looked up. The nymph, whom he had saved earlier, knelt beside him. She seemed deeply concerned for his well-being. With his hand pressing into his forehead to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes, Sam sat up. The nymph helped him with her small hands supporting his chest and back.

"Tell me, Winchester, is this where the final battle will commence?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Well, we think so anyway,"

As the nymph nodded seriously, Sam found himself buzzing with curiosity; why had she saved him? He had gotten her elf friend killed and yet...here she was. Warmth eased its way through his head and suddenly his migraine vanished within an instant. The nymph took her hand away and collapsed onto the gravel beside him.

"Hey, hey! Are you alright?" Sam panicked as he picked up the tiny creature's head in his hands. She coughed and opened her pupil-less blue eyes. A barely noticeable smile curled up her lips and the nymph gestured at something behind Sam. When he turned, Dean was steadily limping towards them, covered in dark shiny blood.

"Dean-!"

"Not my blood. Don't worry. What's up with the blue chick?"

Sam watched Dean wave his worry away with an exhausted backhand and turned back to the dying woman in his arms. When her hand gestured more frantically towards Dean, the hunter came over and knelt on the other side of Sam. His expression was grave as he took her hand. Instantly, the cuts and bruises on Dean's face disappeared.

The action seemed to completely drain the little nymph and her hand dropped dead-weighted onto her stomach. Her chest heaved and a white film was beginning to ghost over her eyes. Still, her smile remained. Sam felt a rush of sorrow for the poor creature until she shook her head at him.

"Do not weep for me, hunter. I was fully conscious in my decision to save and heal you. While I know that you may feel guilt towards my demise, understand that there is no need. I chose my fate. Just as you must choose yours."

The nymph coughed again and bright pink colored liquid erupted from her mouth. Sam and Dean could only assume that it was her blood. After the shuddering fit left her, the creature stared up at the sky. Sam could feel his heart twisting as the life in the monster- no, the being- below him began to fade away.

"Defeat that rift," she whispered, "Save this world. It is the end for me, but it doesn't have to be for all. And do not say that I don't have to die this way because there is no way for simple humans such as yourselves to help me. I mean that with no offense nor anger. My time is drawing short so listen closely."

The other Sam and Dean shared a look then glanced back down at the nymph. She was breathing faster now- quick tiny puffs of breath- and her eyes seemed to be getting increasingly more glassy by the second. Yet she firmly gazed at Dean. The hunter was startled by the raw intensity in her eyes.

"Do not lose sight of what is most important. My partner- the elf you saw- was unaware of the love I felt for her. She died without knowing the life we could have lived had I spoken my heart. I can see in your eyes, hunter, that you are in a similar situation as I. Listen to not what your heart speaks but to what your soul is saying to you," she said, "If you don't, you'll lose the chance forever."

The pain in her voice was the last thing the Winchesters heard before her chest gave a final heave and she stilled. Silence filled the rail yard and the clouds covering the moon shifted, allowing the pale light to shine brilliantly down upon them. The nymph's tiny body felt frail and brittle in Sam's arms as he picked her up.

Dean remained silent, staring down at the gravel. The way he was kneeling almost looked like he was about to pray. Sam swallowed hard and carried the lifeless creature to an abandoned train car. He carefully set her down on a ratty tarp and closed her eyes. Sam took a step back and awkwardly bowed his head.

"Thank you...for saving me. I hope you find peace wherever you are," he murmured. The only response to Sam's words was the cruel whistling of the wind against the train car's door. He felt a bit silly speaking such words to a monster, but it just seemed right. She had saved him, after all. Sam heard the cocking of a gun and turned around to find Dean standing rigidly.

"Dean? What are you..?"

"I'm going to kill her,"

There was a note in Dean's voice- something that Sam could not recognize. But he chose not to question the alter dimensional hunter. Instead, Sam snatched up his own fallen weapons and tucked them into his belt. ' _Cas...are you here? Or have I just been imagining things this whole time?'_ Dean thought.

When Dean turned to face him, Sam could see the newfound sense of purpose. While he had been driven before, something about what the nymph had said had made this entire mission personal. Sam did not pry, but the curiosity still remained. What had shifted Dean's motivation so drastically?

While the other Sam and Dean prepared to enter the ominous warehouse, Castiel and the other Dean Winchester were closing in. They, too, had been steadily trekking towards the old building for hours, never stopping once to rest. Cas refused to inform the Dean walking in front of him that he was beginning to tire.

The energy he had spent between healing Dean's wounds and crossing over into this dimension had taken a devastating toll on the angel. While he normally would be fine with such a long journey, his vessel couldn't handle the constant exercise. Nor could his actual true self, for that matter. But still he kept his mouth shut; this Dean more than likely would not have heard him anyway.

There was a pep in the hunter's step and a burning ball of hardly hidden excitement bubbling from within him. Of course Castiel understood; Dean was about to be reunited with his family after a year of being dead. Cas would be excited, too, if he were in Dean's situation. Though, if he truly thought about it, his own Dean was waiting for him here.

A powerful flurry of emotions assaulted Castiel's mind and heart at this realization. The intensity of the barrage nearly took what breath he had left away. ' _But will he be happy to see you? After all, he did say that he wanted to stay here to help the Sam and Castiel in this universe. What would make your arrival so special?_ '

The thought buried itself through the emotions and shattered the swelling warmth in his core. His step faltered and, due to his lack of energy, Cas tripped and hit the dirt. "Castiel!" the other Dean shouted in alarm, rushing to the angel's side. Cas waved the hunter away with a tired backhand and wiped the dirt from his face with the arm of his trench coat.

The other Dean frowned deeply at the look of absolute despair on his new friend's face and wondered incredulously what emotional turmoil was running through the angel's mind. He then noticed just how exhausted Cas was. Dark circles stood out against the slight tan of his skin and deep lines of worry etched their way through his face.

"Hey, Cas, let's-let's rest for a bit, yeah? I'm feeling a bit crappy from walking so much," Dean said as he helped Castiel into a sitting position. Cas simply gazed at him with dimmed, absent eyes. Dean winced and settled down beside the angel. His friend heaved a heavy sigh and leaned into the hunter's shoulder.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you and your Castiel meet?"

Dean blinked down at Cas in surprise, taken aback by the abrupt question. But the angel wasn't looking at him. Dean blew out a sort of startled breath as he wracked his brain for the memory. Once he found it, his mouth lifted in a nostalgic smile.

"Sammy and I were on a hunt. I don't remember exactly what it was we were tracking down, but I do remember that it was a stubborn son of a bitch. It took us days to find where it was hiding out. Sam and I were so ready, too, to gank that bastard. But when we got there, someone else had gotten to it first- a hunter just like us.

"Sam and Cas didn't like each other one bit when we first met him. Hell, I didn't really take a liking to him until later. He was an ass and, god, did he like to question things. But Cas was a damn good hunter- still is, I imagine. After we'd caught him with our hunt, he had pretty much insisted that he join our team,"

Dean trailed off, his eyes clouding over. Castiel had looked up at him during the story and was giving every ounce of his attention. Which was how he caught the single tear that slipped silently from Dean's eye and slid down his cheek. Dean didn't bother wiping it away. He was quiet for a moment then a strained chuckle forced its way out of the hunter's mouth.

"W-when we found out that Cas had gotten there first, Sam was so pissed," he laughed tearfully, "He and Cas had at it and you know what? Sam got his ass handed to him! Cas completely wiped the floor with him- effortlessly, too! I wish you could've seen the look on Sam's face. Priceless. It was after that...that's when he asked to join us. And, after that, well, we couldn't just say no, right?"

Dean sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the pads of his fingers. Castiel watched him sadly as the other Dean took a deep shuddering breath in. The hunter was silent for another few moments then he brought his hand up. The silver ring on his finger glinted in the moonlight. He smiled again.

"There was...always that feeling, you know? The one where you look at someone and you just know that they're who you need. My Cas used to tell me all the time that I was his soulmate. I used to wonder how he knew and how he could feel so strongly towards someone like me. But now...I think I get it. When I asked him to marry me, he didn't hesitate in his answer.

"At the time, I figured that he said yes because it was a heat of the moment type of thing. Until I died, that is. Now I know that, the reason he married me, wasn't because I had asked him. It was because, for Cas, we were already bonded. He would always love me with every bit of his being, regardless of having fancy papers and rings. He said yes for _me_. To make _me_ happy,"

Dean clenched his hand into a fist and glared down at the dirt beneath his feet. Castiel took his hand and loosened the fist with a calm expression. "Dean," he began, "We will save him. I promise you." The other Dean then surprised the angel by turning his glare on Cas. He extended Cas' startled state by grabbing his friend's face in his calloused hands.

"What about you, angel? Your Dean is here, isn't he?" he growled. Castiel was taken aback by Dean's sudden ferocity and nodded mutely. The blaze in the hunter's green eyes flashed brightly and the other Dean brought Cas' face closer until they were nose to nose. Castiel felt paralyzed; he could not bring himself to look away from such a powerful stare.

"I don't know what's going on in that mind of yours, but I know as sure as I'm sitting here that your Dean feels the same way about you. And if he is anything like me, that hunter is missing the hell out of you right now. He feels just as shitty and as guilt-ridden about leaving you and Sam as I do with my own family. And you can bet your ass that as soon as he sees you, it'll be like sunshine breaking through the clouds,"

Castiel stared at the other Dean with his heart pounding with an aching longing; he was shocked to find how desperately he wanted to believe what the hunter was saying. Maybe that's why he propelled forward and hugged the other Dean so tightly. When he felt the strength behind Dean's return embrace, the angel allowed himself to relax. They both did not utter another word for a long while.

"Do you think they'll be happy to see me, Cas?"

Dean's voice broke through the quietude of the night like the slightest brush of wind in the trees. The whisper held an alarming amount of vulnerability in it. This time, it was Cas who became fierce. He held Dean closer to him, hard enough to hear the other man grunt. "Absolutely," he said. Finally, the other Dean relaxed against him and they pulled away from each other.

Things abruptly became awkward and the other Dean cleared his throat. Castiel refrained from rolling his eyes and spared a tiny smile. "Your Cas is lucky to have you, Dean," he said. The hunter caught on to the familiar phrasing and spluttered. A red flush heated his ears and a laugh bubbled in Castiel's chest.

"Damn right he is," Dean said as he stood. He held out a hand to help the angel to his feet and proceeded to lightly cuff the side of his head. Cas jumped, startled by the action. Dean gave no explanation for it and simply continued on their previous walk to the mysterious warehouse, leaving Castiel to wonder what he'd done to warrant such a response from the hunter.

Confused, Castiel shook his head and followed after the other Dean. His energy was still giving him trouble, but he felt much better after resting a bit. And their talk had eased the storm raging within. If he- no, when he saw his Dean-, Castiel was sure of at least one thing for certain: no matter the consequences, the angel would never let Sam and Dean go on a hunt without him ever again.

"This is it,"

Cas jerked from his thought process and looked up. They had arrived at the building the other Dean had mentioned before. It had apparently been closer than he'd originally thought. His muscles tensed as he heard what sounded like cries of pain. He and the hunter shared a look and crept forward towards the sound. They paused for a minute before they turned the corner. Both froze at the sight before them.

About thirty or so monsters lay dead or unconscious on the ground outlying an entrance to the warehouse. The cries they were hearing were from a half-dead griffin with two gunshot wounds through its neck and left shoulder. Thin gurgling cries came from the creature's gaping, bleeding beak. Its golden eyes rolled back into its head with a slimy film.

The half-eagle half-lion monster clawed at the gravel and tufts of grass in a desperate attempt to get away as Castiel and the other Dean approached it. Perhaps it was the piteous mewls that the griffin was whimpering or the poor thing's fright that made Castiel lean down and gently place his hand on the monster's neck.

A huge sigh exhaled from the griffin and its eyes settled on Castiel in silent gratitude. When the angel nodded with a grave expression, the creature slumped to the ground- dead as a door nail. But before it fully hit the gravel, Cas examined the wounds in its neck. The circular holes beneath the golden feathers and fur still held the bullets.

"Dean, do you recognize these bullets?" Cas questioned as he pulled them from the wounds. The other Dean, who had been examining the group of monsters, hurried over and knelt beside the angel. He frowned as Cas rolled the bloody bullets into his palm. Peering at them closely, Dean realized that these particular bullets belonged to his younger brother's pistol.

"My Sam has a gun that holds bullets that match these," he said. Cas nodded as though Dean had just answered some unasked question. The angel stood and surveyed the area with grim eyes. This battle had been recent- maybe even a few minutes old- which meant that there was something or someone out there. Someone with hunting skills.

"You think it was Sammy?"

"I'm not sure. But these monsters didn't kill themselves- well, not intentionally anyway,"

"What do you think made them freak?"

Castiel didn't answer. Instead, he strode forward with his shoulders back and his hand clenched tightly on the gun beneath his trench coat. He vaguely heard the other Dean get to his feet and follow. Cas flicked his eyes in all directions, searching for the entrance and any living monsters.

A nearly hidden doorway lay ajar in a shadowed corner of the building. Dean shoved his way past Cas, his gun held firmly in both hands, and he carefully edged his way through the opening. Castiel waited for Dean's signal to enter the warehouse then the two proceeded to make their way carefully along the pitch-black hallway.

"Cas, let's split up. You take the left and I'll go right. We'll meet in the middle," Dean whispered so softly that Cas was grateful for his angelic hearing. Though he resented the idea of separating from the only other person he'd met from this world, he knew that Dean was right; it would be easier to cover more ground on their own.

"Be careful, Dean," Castiel whispered as he maneuvered around the hunter. He felt and heard Dean's chuckle. "Don't worry about me, angel. I'll be fine," he whispered. Then Dean was gone, hurrying down the right hand side hallway. Castiel sighed softly and tried to ignore the fresh stab of loneliness as he went the opposite way.

The rift, meanwhile, was unaware of the three hunters and angel patrolling the warehouse. She was too focused on the task in front of her. Unfortunately for her, it was proving to be more difficult that she'd planned. As the rope slid apart for the seventh time, the rift cried out in frustration and backhanded the Cas of this world across the face.

"Stay still, damn you," she hissed. Cas did not respond. His heart beat feebly and his breaths were mere wisps in the frigid air. His eyes had long since shut and his mind was beginning to shut down. The rift rolled her eyes and sent a jab of her energy through the man. Cas gasped and his eyes shot open as his back arched in pain.

The rift ignored the gnawing guilt in her gut; her healing powers weren't supposed to hurt while they cured. And they were not supposed to just heal small portions of the target. It was getting worse; only Cas' heart and mind jolted with newfound energy. The remainder of his broken body was left untreated. Cursing under her breath, the rift quickly retied the knot she'd been working on and finally finished securing Castiel to the post.

"There," she sighed in satisfaction, "Now we wait." Leaving the barely conscious Cas alone, she sashayed over to her hiding spot: an opening between two large crates. Her plan was to hide in the shadows until the gallant hunter came to rescue his husband. When Dean had him untied and on his feet, she'd strike.

Her hand clenched in anticipation; all of the energy within Dean Winchester would soon be hers and she could finish what she started. Charlie, who had been silent for the majority of the time, pipped up. ' _What do you even want? Why hurt so many people?_ ' she asked. The rift sneered at the voice in her head.

"Why? Because humans are greedy little beings who don't understand anything. They destroy everything in their path just to appease their own selfish natures. My home...my family...all of it was taken away from me by them! For what? For buildings and shopping malls and education centers and other useless things! That's why they need to die. All of humanity must perish.

"And I can make it happen. With the rest of my virus. I'll exterminate the last of the puny mortals once and for all. Monsters will be free of hunters- they will be free to live without fear! I will be praised and loved and wanted! I will rule and everything will be as it was before those humans were created,"

The rift felt her stomach heave and moisture dripped from beneath her eyelids. Confused, she lifted her hand and swiped at her cheek. She was startled to find water coating the grooves of her vessel's fingers. Panicked, the rift frantically rubbed her eyes and grew even more fearful as the water increased.

"What is happening?!" she cried. The rift fell to her knees as more and more liquid poured from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to scream. ' _Dude, chill! You're crying! Those are just tears. You're crying_ ,' Charlie said. The rift's brows furrowed in befuddlement.

"Crying? What is crying? Why is this liquid coming from my eyes? Have I broken you?" she asked. Normally, the rift did not indulge into conversation with the human in her mind, but she was frightened and this Charlie woman seemed to know what was going on. Said human was reeling in surprise.

' _Nah, you haven't broken me. It's natural to cry. Crying is, uh, when you feel sad or overwhelmed or even angry, tears spring from little ducts in your eyes and they, um...I dunno, make you feel better, I guess,_ ' Charlie explained. While she held a burning hatred for the supernatural being possessing her body, she felt a bit sorry for the rift.

"I don't understand what you mean but that doesn't matter now. These "tears" have stopped for time being," the rift said as she rose to her feet. She came to the conclusion that she did not like crying. Her face felt sticky and the back of her lids throbbed. The rift sniffed and found that even her nose was filled with some type of liquid that had more than likely stemmed from such crying.

A scowl soured her features; she definitely did not enjoy crying. If Charlie were still in charge of her own body, she would have rolled her eyes as far into her head as they could go. The rift paid the human no mind as she continued her silent vigil. Her glowing green eyes watched the slumped over Cas as he sat propped against the single post in the middle of the warehouse.

Moonlight shone down from the cracks in the failing roof and illuminated the poor human's figure. Each cut, bruise, and swelling areas were clearly visible. The stab of guilt was back, scraping away at the rift's heartstrings. She truly hadn't intended on harming the poor creature with her own hands. The virus was supposed to have taken care of that. But Castiel seemed to have avoided exposure to the deadly curse.

The rift frowned; if she truly thought about it, it had mostly been the monsters who had killed and chased away the humans in this city, not the humans themselves. Could she have miscalculated the potency of the virus? Or was it because of that damned hunter getting in the way? The rift gritted her teeth and suppressed a growl; of course it had to have been Dean Winchester.

He'd taken such a large portion of the virus within himself...the true potential of it must not have been unleashed. She dug her nails into her palms to help distract her from the desire to shriek in annoyance. Everything she had intended to do had been destroyed by that damn human man and his bravado. Before the rift could continue on her hateful rant, there was a clattering noise from within the warehouse.

Instantly, the rift stilled and cloaked herself within the shadows of the crates. Cas, who had been silent up until this point, raised his head at the sound. His neck ached and his head felt like a steel ball, but he could raise his head just enough to be able to see his surroundings. He still held a small smidgen of hope that someone would save him.

It wouldn't last long though. Castiel's body had reached its limit long ago and his brain was quickly following in suit. Between hallucinatory images of his beloved to blacking out for long periods of time, his brain was about to snuff out. He thought that if he could just hold on a little while longer, then maybe, just maybe, the hunters would find him on time. A scuffle nearby made Cas suck in a weak breath of anticipation.

But it turned out to just be a rat, skittering along the floor, pausing only to spare a sniff in Castiel's direction. Both the rift and her hostage slumped in defeat. Little did they know that rescue was only a few feet away. Dean walked silently along the rear end of the warehouse towards the only source of light- a broken shaft of moonlight through the center of the roof. He and the other Sam had found an entrance to the building moments before the other Dean and Cas did.

Which, of course, he hadn't known at the time. He was just about to turn a corner when footsteps could be heard coming towards him. Dean tensed, his gun held up and aimed in case of an attack. Dean leaned against the wall out of sight and felt the cool metal of his gun against his cheek. The footsteps grew increasingly louder, as though the mysterious assailant were running.

Then, just as they reached where Dean was hiding, they stopped. Refusing to let out the breath he'd been holding, Dean waited patiently for the stranger to step out from around the corner. However, he was not expecting his gun to suddenly be pinned to his side, an arm pressed against his windpipe, or having the element of surprise being turned on him.

Not to mention the fact that the stranger looking back at him had Dean's face. A scream rose in Dean and the other Dean's throats but both clamped their hands on the others' mouth just in time. Both breathed heavily, staring at one another with pale expressions of shock. Green clashed with green as the two hunters locked gazes, refusing to blink in fear of being ambushed by the other.

"Well," Dean choked out, "Talk about trippy." The other Dean smirked warily and slowly released the pressure from Dean's neck. The men took turns studying one another, their faces shifting from mild fear to curiosity. Their guards weren't let down, but they didn't plan on killing one another. At least, not at the moment.

"You must be the me from this dimension," Dean said. The other Dean raised an eyebrow and gave Dean a look that seemed to be questioning if he was really that dense. To which the real Dean replied with a rather sassy eye roll. Both cleared his throat. Things were going to be very confusing and awkward.

"Is Sam...my Sam...is he with you?" the other Dean asked. Dean nodded and the other Dean's shoulders relaxed as though a great weight had been removed from them. He even smiled a little more. A similar question hovered on Dean's lips- a question regarding a certain angel- but he kept silent; there was enough confusion and guilt-ridden thoughts plaguing both Deans' minds to last a lifetime.

"You going after the rift, too?"

"That's what she is? A rift?"

"Yeah and a damn powerful one, at that,"

"She's the one who kidnapped Cas,"

The other Dean was surprised to hear the raw amount of anger in his mirrored self's voice. It bordered his own fury. The other Dean quirked the corner of his mouth up in a sad half smile; it seemed that Castiel was right after all. His family had been in good hands. Dean bit his lip and looked at his counterpart as the two began walking again.

"You know...you really tore up your family. I know it wasn't your fault and all, but damn," he said. The other Dean nodded and seemed to deflate. He knew how badly he'd fucked up; he really didn't need this version of himself preaching a reminder. Then again, perhaps it was just like having a conscious. Dean was remembering the looks on the Castiel and the Sam from this world when they told him the depth of their grief.

But before Dean could allow the bubbling anger rise into words, a sharp yell echoed throughout the warehouse. Sharing a twin look of dread, both Dean Winchesters hurried off in search of the source of the noise. The rift, having heard the scream herself, abandoned her post by the crates with a predatory glint in her eye; the shout had been close. What she didn't seem to realize was that, by leaving her post, she was also leaving Castiel...unattended.

The other Sam, who had been the one to raise his voice in the first place, lay sprawled on the ground with an angel pinning him with a hand over his mouth. "Are you trying to inform every being in here of your location? Because if that's the case, well done. You've succeeded," Castiel growled. The other Sam's only response was a muffled squeak; his mind was reeling at the resemblance between this man and the man he was meaning to rescue.

All fighting skills had gone down the drain at that point. Cas rolled his eyes and got off of the other Dean's brother. He held out a hand which the other Sam took cautiously. The hunter and the angel then waited for the other to speak. For at least five minutes, the two simply stared at one another. Castiel was getting increasingly more annoyed with Sam's silence.

"You are the other Sam, correct?"

"Uh, yeah. Are you the...angel that Dean mentioned?"

"Yes. My name is Castiel,"

"Oh, I figured out that much. We have our own Cas. Just less, uh, angelic,"

"Yes, I am aware of my double. I am also surprised that you're so calm after speaking with Dean. Hasn't it been a year since you've seen your brother?"

"My-my brother? I was talking about the Dean that came from the mirror your world, I guess. Wait a minute. Are you saying that my Dean is here, too?"

Castiel went silent; he'd said too much. The other Sam gripped onto the angel's trench coat sleeves with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. A youthful, boyish grin shone from beneath this Sam's beard. Cas bit the inside of his cheek, a habit he'd picked up from his Sam back home. The other Dean had mentioned along the way that he had wanted to be the one to surprise Sam with his resurrection. Cas had ended up ruining that in the long run.

"Where is Dean now?"

"My Dean or your Dean?"

"My brother. I know- well, I have an idea of- where your Dean is,"

"Same goes vice versa, I suppose. Maybe they've met in a similar fashion as you and me,"

The thought of their Deans meeting made both men smile. The tense atmosphere between them all but vanished. The other Sam jerked his head as an indication for Castiel to follow him and they continued on their trek to find the rift and the other Cas. As they walked, Sam decided to strike up a conversation- made up entirely from whispers, of course. After all, he'd heard so much about this Castiel that it was kinda hard not to be curious.

"So, what's it like being an angel?"

"Tiresome,"

"Do you have any powers?"

"If you are trying to compare to me a superhero, then no, I do not have powers. I have abilities that aid me in my time on Earth,"

"Oh. Okay,"

They fell silent. The other Sam frowned and glared into the darkness; this Castiel didn't like to talk much. Dean had at least been more open about things than this guy. He'd even explained how their relationship was- or at least, tried to explain it. Sam honestly didn't believe a word the dude had said; he and this angel were as close as his own Dean and Cas. This in mind, Sam tried a new approach.

"You know...your Dean mentioned you quite a bit since he got here,"

"Has he?"

Bingo. Sam caught the softened tone in Castiel's voice. He was thankful for the darkness; the angel couldn't see the smug smirk on the other Sam's face. Castiel shifted a bit and Sam could hear his breathing hitch; he was nervous. A frown wiped away the smirk.

"Uh, yeah, he has,"

"What has he said about me?"

"That you are the best friend he's ever had. That you've saved him more times than he could count. He even mentioned that you pulled him out of Hell, which I didn't believe.

"That is true. I was the one who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. Did he tell you that when we met face to face that his first response was to start shooting at me then to stab me in the chest?"

"What? No! Seriously?!"

"You are too loud. And yes, I am serious,"

The other Sam gawked at the shadowed silhouette of the man walking beside him. This Cas was awesome! Sam wanted to hear more of his and Dean's adventures. Which was a bit odd. Before, Castiel had been very brisk and to the point with his speech. But now that Dean was mentioned, Cas became a whole new being. ' _More human_ ,' Sam thought.

A small hum of triumph buzzed in Sam's throat; the angel did love Dean and Sam knew that Dean loved the angel right back. He'd been right all along. The feeling of warmth in his chest reminded Sam of when he had first gotten his own brother and friend together at last. They were almost identical. But the difference was that his brother had actually tried asking Castiel out.

Sam was unsure about how the Dean from the other world would react. That Dean seemed to have a deeper 'no homo' vibe to him than the other Sam's brother. Castiel, the angel, however, was so in love with Dean that it was nearly gut wrenching. But from what Sam had observed from watching and spending time with the angel's Dean, the hunter seemed to feel the same way.

Frustration rose like a burning bomb in Sam's being. He'd hate to imagine how the Sam from the other dimension must feel. Castiel suddenly held out his arm as a sign to halt. Hunter instincts returning, Sam paused with his hand clenching the handle to his machete. He strained his eyes and ears as he peered into the darkness ahead of them.

"Something's there. Go around the left and I'll take right," Sam murmured. The angel didn't seem to like being ordered around, but he followed Sam's instructions wordlessly. They had reached the middle of the warehouse and were only now aware of the presence in the room. Castiel was gone from Sam's sight, but the hunter could still feel that he was there.

Creeping forward, Sam edged his way out from behind a crate. He could see a figure slumped against a pole in the center of the beam of moonlight. Sam fought the urge to rush out and help the person; it was obviously a trap. So, he diligently moved around the crates while stepping closer and closer to the hostage.

When he was as close to the man as he could get without being seen, Sam quietly slipped the machete out of its holster on his back. Keeping his eyes alert, he leaned forward. His fingers made soft thudding noises as he tapped the ground to get the figure's attention. He was unprepared for the realization that the hostage was his Castiel.

Rage, pain, sorrow, guilt, and horror hit Sam like a tidal wave. No wonder Sam hadn't recognized him; his poor friend's face was completely covered in angry purple bruises and deep red cuts. His right eye was swollen nearly shut and dried blood caked around its edges. A gaping wound that had scabbed over and reopened a few times stood out against the dark brown of Cas' hair. That was all visible; Sam wondered what horrors lie beneath Cas' clothing.

"Sam?"

The other Sam shot his head up at the sound of Dean's voice. Relief spiraled through him; Dean was just the person he needed to see. He heard the steady steps of the hunter coming towards him. The other Sam moved into the light carefully and got to work on the bindings encasing Cas' ankles. He didn't look up as Dean's booted feet stopped beside him.

"Dean, I found Cas. We have to get him out of here. Start on the ropes around his wrists,"

"Sammy?"

Sam froze, his hands stilling from their sawing motion. His eyes filled with tears and his lower lip began to tremble. ' _It couldn't be_ ,' he thought. Dean had followed Sam's instructions and was currently kneeling behind Cas with a knife cutting the ropes. And he hadn't said anything else after Sam's name. That meant that someone else had called him "Sammy". Only one person called him that...

Slowly, Sam glanced over at the boots. His gaze traveled up and up and up, taking in the familiar clothing and stature. When he finally saw the face of the boot's owner, Sam's breath caught in his throat. Tears flowed freely from his eyes and he shakily stood. His feet wobbled and the machete fell from his hands. It hit the ground with a clang.

"Dean...?"

"Hey, little brother,"

A/N: Happy New Year! Thank you all so much for being patient. You've all been so kind and supportive. I hope you all have the best luck this year!


	17. The Battle That's Long Overdue

A/N: The wait has been too long and for that I deeply apologize. But I have finished this story and will be damned if I don't publish it. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

A mixture of a relieved and heartbroken sob burst from Sam's throat and he barreled into his older brother. He clung to him as though the other Dean was his lifeline. He was back and being able to feel his strong arms around Sam and his hand soothingly petting his emotional sibling's hair made it all real. The tears sprung from the other Sam's eyes and spilled in torrents down his cheeks.

The other Dean shushed his younger brother and held on to him with just as much enthusiasm, if not more. Sam's fingers gripped the other Dean's jacket in a vise grip and his face was buried into his big brother's shoulder. He wanted to speak, but the only noises that came out of his mouth were desperate, hiccuping cries. His body heaved with the force of his keening.

"I'm here, Sammy. I've got you, I've got you. It's alright," the other Dean murmured in a thick voice. He, too, was weeping. Dean, who was crouching beside the other Cas, watched the brothers with a lump in his throat. Not only was the reunion super touching, but the feather-light body weight of the fragile Castiel in his arms gave Dean the realization of how close they were to losing him.

"Cas? Hey, can you hear me? Cas?" he whispered into the ear of the unconscious man lying against his chest. The other Castiel did not respond. Dean could feel faint, rapid breaths against the hand holding Cas' head up, so he knew that Cas was alive- barely but still functioning mental wise. Dean clenched his jaw; that rift chick had really done a number on his friend.

Every inch of the other Cas was black and blue and yellow and purple; he looked like a rotten eggplant. There were cuts that burned an angry red and were swollen to the point where they looked like they'd explode at any moment. His once shiny dark brown hair stuck to his scalp and was crusted with dry blood and bits of skin. A scabbed over wound about the size of a child's fist pulsed beneath wisps of sticky hair.

His nose and lips were also encrusted with black, dried-up blood. Truth be told, the other Cas wouldn't have been recognizable had it not been for the clothes he was wearing. Granted, they also looked as though they'd been through hell, but they were still the same ones he'd been wearing the day he'd been taken. One shoe had been ripped to tatters and his foot could be seen through the cloth remains of his sneaker.

It was blackened and purplish with frostbite and his toes appeared as though they could fall off at any given moment. Parts of his shredded sock stuck out from under the pads of his feet. ' _Jesus, Cas, just what all did she do to you?_ ' Dean thought sadly. Using as much care as possible, Dean brushed a few strands of hair away from Cas' eyes.

"Guys," he began, "as much as I want you two to have your happy moment of brotherly love, we should go. Cas looks like he's about to keel over at any second." The embracing brothers pulled away and wiped at their eyes. The other Dean's face remained stoic until he saw the state that his husband was in. He fell to his knees and reached to take Cas from Dean.

When the hunter instinctively tightened his grip, the other Dean sent him a look that could only be described as a despairing plea. Dean bit his lip and gently handed the other Cas over. After all, who was he to keep two separated lovers apart after they'd just found each other again? Besides, the other Cas fit like a puzzle piece into his husband's arms; he belonged there.

The other Dean's eyes softened and filled with more tears as he brushed his fingers softly over the other Castiel's cheek. The other Sam knelt down on the other side of his brother and took one of his brother-in-law's hands in his. Dean stood up and decided to keep watch; he didn't want to intrude any more on this moment than he had to.

"I need you to hold on for me, baby. Keep that beautiful heart of yours beating. We're gonna get you out of here. Sammy and I and our new friends will get you home. I know someone who can fix you up and you'll be good as new," the other Dean murmured. Dean felt his heart clench. The way his counterpart said those words...he could hear all of the love the other Dean felt for Cas.

He could also hear just how heartbroken and how much pain the other Dean was feeling. Dean closed his eyes; he knew how his other self felt. He'd give anything to be able to see his angel again. It didn't even have to be as sappy and lovey dovey as the married couple near him. Dean wanted his Castiel- the dorky yet lovable angel in the trenchcoat who Dean knew would do anything and everything for him. It hardly registered to Dean that the feeling deep in his heart was the same type of love being shown by his mirror self.

"Aw, isn't this the most tender of moments? I think I may vomit,"

The trio snapped their heads around in unison. All of them searched wildly for the rift, but there was nothing to be seen but darkness. Dean tightened his grip on his gun and took a step forward. The other Dean carefully distributed his husband into the other Sam's arms and stood as well. He stepped up beside his vigilant self and the two shared a look of mutual understanding; the battle was about to begin and they both needed the other.

"You know, I find it quite humorous that the three of you are getting so emotional over that one man. Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't there a fifth member to your little party? Ah, yes. Him,"

Suddenly, from out of the shadows, a body was thrown carelessly forwards. It landed on the ground with a heavy thud. Dark hair, beige trenchcoat, slacks...it was unmistakable who it was. Both Deans gasped. The other Dean had to grab Dean's arm; the hunter had surged forward without hesitating. When Dean turned his desperate green gaze on his mirror self, the other Dean could see what must have been projecting in his own eyes: Dean needed to go to his angel.

"It's a trap. You know that it is. I understand what you're feeling, but you can't let your guard down. He needs you, Dean, just as much as you need him," the other hunter said in a firm voice. Dean flinched and nodded woodenly in understanding. Castiel groaned in pain, drawing the Deans' attention back to him. He was still alive! The rift limped out from the shadows with her lips stretched in a cruel grin.

Dean felt a rush of pride; it was obvious that his angel had put up one hell of a fight. Deep gashes ran down her pale arms and the shirt she'd been wearing was torn down the middle, revealing a red mark that was slowly turning purple. It wasn't until her face was revealed in the moonlight that the Deans could see the full amount of damage Castiel had inflicted.

Blood gushed from her nose profusely and her bared teeth were sticky with it. Dark purpling bruises formed against the swelling knots on her temples and jawline. At first glance, both Deans figured that the rift was smiling because of Castiel's unconscious form on the ground in front of her. But no, the moment they saw her face, her true reason was revealed; while Castiel had not seen who it was that attacked him in the dark, the rift knew just how badly it hurt for the hunters to see Charlie's body so ragged.

However, it was easy to tell that the rift hiding behind the nerdy huntress was beginning to weaken. Her veins bulged with a pulsing green glow and the once brilliant gleam of emerald in her eyes was starting to flicker. Dean noticed that her breathing was ragged and a beacon of light peeked out from one of her cuts. He came to a sudden realization; the rift might have consumed Castiel's energy, but she couldn't handle its power.

"You bitch. I was gonna put your head on a platter already, but now I'm going to rip your heart out and make you watch," the other Dean was hissing. Dean glanced at his other self and studied him. For a moment, he could find nothing helpful until he saw what appeared to be a shard of glimmering green glass. Dean raised his eyebrows a little; the other Dean had a plan already.

The rift's smile grew wider and her eyes darkened with sly amusement. She cockily leaned down and grabbed Castiel by his hair. Without pausing, the rift lifted the unconscious angel into the air effortlessly. Then she looked him up and down with a pitying look before glancing at the men in front of her with an expression of absolute malice.

"I'd like to thank you, Dean Winchester, both of you, for bringing me such a delectable energy source. He was a feisty one, though, I'll give him that. However, I'm done with him for now. My appetite has been satisfied. I feel more powerful than I have in years," she chuckled, "Oh and before you decide to threaten me with your petty declarations, I hope you realize that anything you do to me, you do to your precious little Charlie here."

Both Deans clenched their teeth and tightened their grips on the guns they'd aimed at the rift's head. Or rather Charlie's head. As much as they hated to admit it, both men knew that she was right. And the last thing that either of them wanted was for Charlie to be harmed or worse killed. But the hunters were not stupid; they knew that this being in front of them was not their friend. The rift watched them with disdain.

"Not going to listen? Hmph. I don't blame you. Well then, shall I explain why we're all here?"

"The hell are you talking about? We're here because of your sick obsession with destroying humans. Newsflash, there's nothing you can do without your damn virus. And I sure as hell am not going to help you anymore,"

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, hunter. You've already given me all that I need,"

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You,"

And just like that, the rift changed. Her cocky, knavish demeanor shifted into a look of pure predatory hatred; she aimed to kill each and every last one of them. In a flash, Castiel was chucked at the men, sending them sprawling. The other Dean's head struck the pole in the center of the floor and he could see stars dancing in front of his eyes.

The real Dean held onto the angel in his arms for dear life as the two slammed into the other Sam and Cas. Quickly, Dean looked down to check to see if Castiel had been harmed by the fall. Other than the injuries inflicted by the rift during their struggle, he seemed fine. Dean sighed in relief. He didn't know what he'd do if his Cas was hurt, too.

Carefully shoving the angel off of him, Dean got to his knees and met Sam's gaze. The poor guy looked like he was torn between staying put and launching himself at the rift. Dean placed both hands on Sam's shoulders. He tried to keep a close eye on the other Dean at the same time. The rift was slowly making her way towards his counter self, so Dean had to be quick.

"Sam, I need you to watch over Cas. Both of them. Keep them safe,"

"I have to help my brother! I just got him back, Dean. I don't wanna lose him again,"

"And you won't. I'll be right there by his side. You trust me, right?"

"Yes. I trust you,"

"Good. Then you know that we'll be fine. Besides, if all three of us are fighting this bitch, who's going to protect them?"

Dean glanced down at both Castiels. Sam bit his lip and held his version of Cas closer. Then he took the angel and pulled him up close to his side. He nodded determinedly. Dean returned the nod and got up in time to see the rift and the other Dean begin their fight to the death. She reached for the dizzy hunter only to be fiercely kicked away.

The rift tumbled into the crates and the force of impact dented the wooden boxes tremendously. The breath vanished from the rift's lungs and she had to crawl on the ground as she struggled to breathe. Charlie, who had been shouting away within the recesses of her own mind, began to panic; if the rift couldn't catch her breath fast enough, she and Charlie would both pass out.

If that happened, Charlie might not ever regain consciousness and the rift would be in full control. She couldn't allow that to play out. Not after she'd regained control over her thoughts after a year of living in muffled silence. ' _Lay on your back and put your arms over your head! Quick! Or you and I both will be in trouble!_ ' she shouted.

Charlie could feel the rift's surprise at her outburst, but the supernatural creature followed her instructions immediately. Charlie was beginning to suffocate and her consciousness darkened around its edges. The rift close her eyes and calmed their rapidly beating heart to its normal pace. Then she took deep breaths and slowly but surely Charlie was able to push away the threatening darkness.

Meanwhile, Dean hurried over to his other self and checked the hunter over. The other Dean didn't seem to be too hurt, but he did have a growing knot on the back of his head. Dean patted at his counterpart's cheek and watched as green eyes rolled disorientated towards him. The other Dean groaned and allowed Dean to help him to his feet.

"Alright. Okay, buddy. There. You good?"

"I'm...gonna...be sick,"

"Hey, hey! No puking! Focus, man,"

Dean aimed his gun at the rift as she got to her feet. She eyed him in frigid scorn and the three circled one another. The other Dean was trying his best to shake off his fatigue. Dean was more than happy to support him. He wrapped his arm around his mirrored self's waist and held the hunter up as the other Dean tilted forward.

"Oh no you don't! Steady, man. She'll kill you if you don't get a hold of yourself,"

"Trying...room is spinning,"

"Well, try faster, damn it! We don't have all day!"

"Not helping, asshole!"

The rift and the two hunters circled one another- the Deans awkwardly shuffling while the rift slunk like a leopard preparing to pounce. The rift lashed out at them and they were forced to leap backwards. The other Dean stumbled and almost knocked them off balance. Annoyed, Dean glared hotly at the rift, who was grinning triumphantly.

Clenching his jaw, Dean clicked a bullet into place. He made a 'tsk'ing noise with his tongue and aimed the gun at the rift's leg. He knew that he only had one shot and he had to make it count. The rift froze in place as Dean took a step closer. Her unnaturally glowing green eyes locked onto the barrel of the gun and she cocked her head to the side.

"You won't shoot me. You don't want to hurt your little Ch- agh!"

The rift cried out in agony as a bullet wedged itself deep into the thick flesh of her upper thigh. She stumbled and fell to the ground, gripping her wound. When she looked up incredulously, the rift was met with two pairs of hard eyes filled with nothing but pure and utter hatred. The other Dean lowered his recently fired gun and clumsily extracted himself from Dean's grasp.

"Doesn't matter if you're in her body or not. You are not Charlie," he growled. Dean kept his own gun trained on the rift's head. His hands were steady and his face was an emotionless mask. The rift looked from one Dean to the other with a disbelieving expression. An expression that turned to fright as both hunters approached her.

Blood oozed from the wound in her thigh, making the rift cry out in pain. She scrambled away from the two known killing machines and tried to summon her energy to heal her wounds. But no matter how hard she tried, it would not come to her. It remained dormant, as though taunting her with its locked away presence.

"P-please, all I wanted was for monsters to be able to live in peace. Is that too much to ask? Your kind ruined everything precious to me! Everything! Shouldn't I get a chance for revenge? I deserve it!"

"You're a disgrace to all supernatural beings everywhere. The only thing you deserve is the biggest ass whupping of your life,"

"This isn't fair! Why should humans get to live while monsters suffer?!"

"Humans and monsters already live together. We all suffer because of one another. It's the Circle of Life,"

"No! Humans ruined everything! Monsters have done no wrong! All I did...I did it for my kind. We merit a world of harmony and refuge. You hunters are the scum of this earth!"

"You've done nothing but cause destruction and heartbreak from the moment you took over this mirror. For both humans AND monsters. And you say we're the scum? You don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about. Now, do us all a favor. Shut the hell up,"

The other Dean pulled back his fist and punched the rift as hard as he could in her face. Her head snapped to the side and her eyes closed almost delicately. Faint breaths puffed from the rift's nose; she was still alive. The other Dean had knocked her out cold. She wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

The warehouse was silent, save for the whistling of the wind against the boards of the ceiling. Dean hummed in the back of his throat; he hadn't been expecting that. The other Dean slowly straightened up and turned back to Dean and the others. He had a sheepish grin on his face and he cleared his throat.

"Sorry. I've been wanting to do that for a long time now," he said. Sam and Dean each uttered breathy, strained chuckles, the tense atmosphere between the trio lightening into a slight more comfortable sense of relief. The battle was over. They had won. The other Dean staggered forward and pressed his palm into the back of his head. His nose wrinkled as he winced in pain.

"That's going to spawn on hell of a headache later, uh, other me,"

"Castiel can fix it,"

"He doesn't have enough energy to do that, Dean. Damn that feels weird to say,"

"I know. We'll get him back to the house and get him fixed up. Both of them,"

The other Dean smiled softly, but there was a shadow of dark confusion in his eyes. It had been too easy; the rift had gone down without much of a fight. He watched as Dean went over to Sam and knelt down in front of him. A strong urge to check on the unconscious rift burned through the hunter's skin. If he turned around for just a second...

An enormous explosion of electricity and swirling lime green light erupted from behind them. The other Dean opened his mouth in a mute cry of agony. The other Sam and Dean held up their hands to shield their eyes. Through his fingers, Sam could see the outline of what appeared to be a woman engulfed in the ghostly green maelstrom.

Her eyes radiated hot white flames and her hair flowed around her in light-green tendrils of luminescence. Fury could not come close to describing the livid energy bursting around her. Sam watched helplessly as the rift dove and entered through his brother's back, filling his eyes with green beams of light.

"Dean!"

The other Dean was gone. Within minutes, the rift had taken over. The aura of malevolent power emanated from the rift in visibly vibrating waves. The other Dean, possessed by the rift, grinned so wide that Sam and Dean were sure his jaw would snap. Dean got to his feet, but with the flick of the rift's wrist, he was sent soaring through the air. He landed with a painful crash into a pile of crates and metal railroad parts.

"Finally! Our two halves have become whole again. The virus is in its completed form!" the rift shouted. The other Dean and the rift's voice combined and sounded as though they were speaking through a fan. The other Sam knew what he had to do. While the rift was distracted, Sam carefully and quickly dragged the Castiels over to a safe area within an empty crate that had turned over on its side.

Then, when the two were safe, Sam turned and charged. The rift, who was busy admiring her new body and strength, was caught utterly off-guard as she was tackled to the ground. The two wrestled frantically. Sam hardly got a chance to groan in pain as the rift pummeled him with his brother's fists. He felt like a giant bruise growing more agonizing with each hit.

Sam fought back, but his punches weren't as powerful as he'd hoped; his mind acknowledged that it wasn't his brother that he was fighting, but his heart wasn't as easily convinced. The rift noticed his hesitance and didn't bother blocking Sam's advances. Sam faltered as his fist landed a hard right hook against the other Dean's jaw.

The rift jerked back, clenching her vessel's jaw as it flared in sudden agony. The glass shard fell out of the other Dean's jacket and hit the ground with a clink. The rift didn't notice; Sam, however, did. Tactfully, he tumbled with the rift over towards the fallen shard and tried to grab for it. The rift, not knowing what Sam was doing, punched Sam with enough force that his teeth slammed down on his tongue.

Excruciating pain rocketed through Sam's face and he spat out a mouthful of metallic blood. His mouth throbbed and he could feel his tongue swelling up. The rift chuckled deep in her throat as Sam's struggles weakened. His body, sensing that if he lost the fight he'd be in danger, began to flail desperately. His fists lashed out and aimed towards the other Dean's face.

The rift sneered and pinned Sam's hands to the frigid floor before Sam could blink. Her strength was incredible and the other Dean's hands acted on hunter's instinct. Sam was helpless. He thrashed and bucked against the rift but it was of no avail. His fingers stretched out desperately for the glass shard. The rift- staring at him from the other Dean's eyes- tilted her head in mock sympathy.

"Your simplex human brain must be overwhelmed. To think that you're about to be killed by your own brother. And after that cherishing reunion, too,"

"Screw you,"

"Still fighting? Color me surprised. You Winchesters don't know when to quit,"

The rift screwed the other Dean's face up into an expression of absolute disgust and disdain. Sam's fingers struck something cold and without hesitating they wrapped around the object. Hope and triumph soared through Sam's heart. Thankfully, the rift was too focused on degrading Sam to notice his sudden elation. Still struggling, Sam dragged the glass over to his side, where he hide it carefully.

"...could've killed you all," the rift was saying, "I wanted to so many times. I can take your pretty head off, right here and now,"

Sam waited patiently for an opening. The rift had his brother's arm- the one whose hand was holding Sam's wrists in a excruciatingly tight grip- in a position where it covered the other Dean's chest. The other Dean's right arm, which had been used to exaggerate the rift's points along with flamboyant hand gestures, now lashed out and cut off Sam's airway. Blood began to steadily suffocate the back of his throat since his mouth was no longer open.

"I think I've wasted enough time talking. Time to die,"

Sam choked out a harsh spew of gibberish. The rift frowned and tightened her grip in annoyance. Sam spluttered and bucked hard enough to dislodge the other Dean's body from where it'd been straddling his waist. Sam seized his chance. As the rift tilted to the side having been thrown off-balance, Sam freed his left hand from his brother's grasp; he'd been wriggling free inch by inch.

Gasping for air, Sam snatched the hidden glass shard and surged upward with all his might. The rift, taken aback, flailed and landed on the floor with a hard thud. Sam raised his fist clenching around the green weapon and brought it down with all his force. It buried deep into the other Dean's chest and broke off in the middle. The rift stared at Sam in that split second of utter shock. Sam leaned down so the two were eye to eye.

"That's for fucking with my family,"

Viridescent illumination exploded from the rift as a caterwaul of torment erupted from the other Dean's throat. Sam was propelled backwards as the rift convulsed in her death throes. He skidded coarsely into a massive crate and the back of his head crashed hard enough against the rotting wood that splinters showered over him.

He watched in dizzy horror as the other Dean, his eyes alight with blazing jade light, was lifted into the air. His brother's back arched and spasmed. His arms splayed out like he was mimicking crucifixion. His mouth was open in a gaping howl of blinding light as the rift extracted herself from his body. Sam knew what was about to happen and tried to rush over to where the other Dean was hovering.

But the moment he made an attempt to rise to his feet, his right leg gave out and Sam collapsed to the cold wood of the floor. The remaining essence of the rift jerked violently from the other Dean's body and, like a rag doll, he dropped. Sam opened his mouth to yell out his brother's name until he saw Dean- the real Dean- sprint full force from the shadows of the crates.

His eyes were trained intensely on his falling counterpart. Just as Sam thought that he would have to see his brother slam into the ground, Dean leapt forward and collided with the other Dean. Dean grabbed him in his arms and the two spun to the side. They crashed to the ground then rolled to a halt. At this point, Sam had managed to get to his feet by leaning against the crate.

He limped as fast as he could over to where the two Deans lay motionless. His leg throbbed with each step, but Sam ignored it. It wasn't until he reached his brother that he allowed himself to crumple to the floor. Panting, Sam dragged himself over and shook the abnormally feverish bodies. Dean lifted his head with a groan and rolled onto his back.

"I gotta learn not to throw my weight around,"

"Thank you, Dean. I don't know what I-,"

"Hey, hey. Don't get all mushy on me. Let's just hope the guy wakes up,"

Sam spared a weak smile and gather his older brother in his arms. The other Dean's skin felt like it held flaming charcoals beneath it. His complexion was ashen and a smokey gray coloration blackened the fragile skin over his eyes. The hunter resembled death in nearly every sense of the term. Despair and hope entwined in a vise hold on Sam's heart.

Without warning, the other Dean gasped and instantaneously lurched up into a sitting position. If the previous events hadn't occurred, it would appear as though the hunter had just awoken from a terrifying nightmare. His chest heaved and sweat broke out along his forehead. The other Dean didn't get a chance to turn his head for Sam embraced him in a crushing hug.

"Sammy...Sam...can't breathe,"

"Sorry! It's...you're alive! You're really alive,"

"I won't be for much longer if you keep squeezing me like that,"

Sam instantly let go with a sheepish expression. The other Dean gushed out a breath and put a hand comfortingly on his younger brother's shoulder. Dean wobbly got to his feet and helped the other two hunters up. It took the other Dean a few moments to regain his equilibrium. Once he was steadied, the brothers hugged again. Dean stood nearby with his eyes peeled for any other signs of danger, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

"How did you know that the shard would work?"

"I didn't. I just found a weapon and ganked her with it,"

"Well, it's a good thing you used that instead of a gun or something. That shard was from the rift's mirror. It was the only thing that could kill her. Kinda like a 'the only thing that can kill you is you yourself' type of deal,"

"I don't care how it killed her, I'm just glad that it did. And that I get to have you back, jerk,"

"I told you that I'd always be there for you, bitch. I never break my promises,"

Sam laughed and patted the other Dean on the back. His brother hugged him tighter for a few more seconds then pulled away. Dean, who had been anxiously shifting from foot to foot, glanced towards the crate with the Castiels. The other Sam leaned against his older brother and together the three of them made their way over.

Inside, neither man had moved. The other Cas was sprawled on his side with his arms partially covering his face. The angel was slumped in one corner, his chin resting on his shoulder. He appeared completely limp and unresponsive. Dean felt his heart sink at the sight. Forgetting that the other two were there, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled over to where the angel sat.

He gathered Castiel into his arms and hugged him close. When the familiar scent of his best friend washed over him, Dean felt himself relax more than he had in days. He hadn't realized just how badly he'd miss the dorky guy until he was thrown into an alternate dimension. Even the dirty trenchcoat was a welcoming sight.

But the fact that the angel was in a comatose state and was injured drove a stake of guilt through Dean's heart. He knew that it was because of him that Cas was here in the first place. The other Dean and Sam shared a knowing look and chose to focus on their own Cas, who hadn't moved a single muscle. The poor chap had one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel; he could keel over at any moment. The other Dean shook his head as he, too, gathered his Cas to his chest.

Sam felt tears prick the corners of his eyes and he had to swallow hard to keep his throat from lumping up. He had gotten his older brother back, yes, and Sam was ecstatic; would he have to give up Castiel in the process? He felt that if that was true, neither of the Winchesters could handle it. Their Cas was the finishing corner to their triangle of family. Without him, they were nothing.

Dean noticed how the other Cas hadn't responded to his family's touches either. And, while his heart was bleeding for his angel, part of him still ached for the other Cas; the two had become friends- at least to Dean's knowledge. Besides, it was hard not to love the guy. Gently, Dean sighed and gently maneuvered Castiel's body to drape awkwardly yet securely over his shoulders.

As he stood up, Dean stumbled a little with Cas' dead-weight but soon righted himself and planted his feet firmly. The arms of his angel hung limply over Dean's shoulders, his chin nestled in the crook of the hunter's neck, while his legs were fastened securely around Dean's waist. With the help of Dean's slightly hunched over stance and his strong arms snugly holding under Castiel's knees, the angel was able to stay on Dean's back without much trouble.

Glancing up, Dean noticed that Sam had picked Charlie back up and the other Dean had mimicked his counterpart with his husband on his back. The three men all caught each others' eye and for a moment no one spoke. There wasn't a need to; they all knew that time was drawing short. They had known what was going to happen the minute the first wisps of the rift's dying energy began to burst from her lips.

There was a sort of vibration in the air that cause a gnawing twisting feeling spring up in Dean's gut. The other Sam and Dean did not seem to feel it. Dean bit his lip as the three began the long trek back to the house; although the feeling was faint, the hunter had a premonition that it would soon strengthen. As they walked, the other Dean began to speak.

"So I gotta say this before any other sappy crap happens: thank you, Dean, for...for helping my family. And for, you know, everything else in between. I don't know what I would have done without you,"

Dean felt the back of his neck and his ears begin to heat up in a flush of embarrassment and pride. He muttered a gruff, "It was nothing. Would've done the same for me," and left it at that. The other Dean seemed perfectly fine with the cease of conversation; in fact, it's what he'd been hoping for. Even if he was in another dimension or if he was from the real world, Dean Winchester was not good when it came down to expressing his emotions.

Sam, on the other hand, was not quite ready to allow the conversation to end. He shifted Charlie on his broad shoulders, although she really didn't weigh that much. With a slightly annoyed flip of his hair, Sam turned his head in the Deans' direction and lightly glared at them. But whatever he was about to say was cut off by a synchronized gurgling growl. There was a brief pause then the other Dean grinned sheepishly.

"I, uh, I haven't eaten since I visited Dean's world. It's all catching up with me,"

Sam and Dean looked at one another and frowned; they hadn't eaten in about three days. The only thing that had been in their stomachs had been that small cup of coffee that neither had finished. As though in response, first Dean's belly growled and a few minutes later Sam's went off. It was odd that they hadn't noticed up until this point that they were practically starving.

"We must have been so focused on fighting and the hunt that we completely forgot to eat," Sam said. The other Dean's face went slack with stupor at his younger brother's words. When Dean nodded in agreement, the other Dean shook his head- the action jostled the other Cas a little bit. His expression was only slightly sour with disapproval.

"I can't believe you, Sammy. Not eating for three days straight," he snorted, "If I had known that you couldn't take care of yourself, I would have-." He cut off as he realized what he was about to say. _I would have never left you alone_. Dean finished the thought in his head. And he finally understood what his own Sam had meant all those times he'd told Dean that he was acting like John Winchester.

While Dean shamefully looked down at the dirt, the other Dean cleared his throat. He shifted the other Cas into a more comfortable position on his shoulders. A smile broad with affection and relief sprung to his face when his husband grumbled nearly inaudibly under his breath. He glanced over at Sam, who wearily grinned.

"Let's go home, guys."

A/N: Hopefully I'll have the last chapter up in a few hours. I just want to make sure that I haven't gone off track. Bear with me for just a little while longer! Please and thank you!


	18. Home Sweet Home

A/N: A few hours turned into way more than that...oops! The final chapter! Enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor its characters.

The trek back home was long and exhausting, but overall satisfying. They had not only saved the world by killing the rift once and for all, but both Castiels and Charlie were safe and sound. And for a split second, the Winchesters allowed themselves each a sigh of relief. Everything was as it should be. Now all that was left was to lick their wounds and recuperate.

When Dean and the other Winchesters walked through the door of the war-beaten house, he realized two things: it had been over a year since his counterpart had set eyes on his own living room and that Dean- the hunter who lived on the other side of the mirror, the real world- would never see this house again. A pang of regret filled his chest only to be replaced by a sense of accomplishment and pride; he'd saved them all. Dean was done. He could go home now.

"Home sweet home,"

Dean's eyes caught and followed after the other Dean as he took a moment to take in the familiar yet not surroundings. His chest heaved a but as he shifted Cas from his shoulders into his arms. Using the utmost care, he carefully opened the door to the spare bedroom downstairs and carried Cas inside, shutting the door behind him. They almost looked like a newly wed couple, minus the black and blue skin of the "bride".

When the door clicked shut, Sam and Dean each flipped the sofa back over onto its legs. Then, after that was situated, they placed their piggyback riders on the armchair and the couch. Sam gently maneuvered Charlie into a more comfortable position against the headrest of the armchair as though she were a fragile doll. He took a moment to softly move a strand of red hair from her face, an affectionate smile hovering on his lips.

When Dean settled Castiel on the couch, he forgot for a split second that his friend was a literal angel that could kill him if he so chose to. Maybe it was because of the other Castiel's weak state that fueled Dean's caution. Cas settled against the cushions of the couch and Dean resisted the urge to kiss his forehead. While he was aware of what he felt for his best friend and that he was in the clear for doing or thinking such things, old habits were hard to get rid of.

"I'm gonna go get some blankets for them," Sam said jogging over to the stairs. The other Dean came out of the bedroom and crossed the room to meet Sam halfway, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He paused in front of his brother and pulled him into yet another hug. The other Sam smiled a bit exasperatedly as he returned it. Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes; surely they didn't hug that much? Sam pulled away first and patted the other Dean on the shoulder affectionately.

"It's good to have you back, man. This house hasn't been the same without you," he said before running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The other Dean stared after him with a softened expression. He was turning away to go return to his husband when there was a quiet gasp. Castiel- the angel- had begun to stir. Dean clumsily dropped to his knees and scooted over to where Cas' head lay on a cushion against the arm of the couch.

The other Dean quickly moved so he could see his new friend more clearly. They both held their breath in anticipation as Castiel groaned. His long lashes fluttered briefly before his eyes slowly opened. A deep, guttural cough rumbled from his chest and both Deans could see his pupils dilate then focus sharply. Cas grumpily lifted one hand to his forehead and winced as his fingers touched one of the knobs there.

"How are you feeling, Castiel?" the other Dean quipped up from where he stood over by the stairs. Cas rapidly shut his eyes as though pain had rocketed through them. His lips parted into a silent wince as he shifted onto his elbows. From what the real Dean could tell, his angel had yet to see him. And that pissed him off- just a little. The other Dean sent him a look of sympathy.

"Oh, I'm just peachy,"

"I figured,"

"What happened?"

"Rift sucked out all of your energy and tossed you about like a damn doll,"

"Well, that explains my vessel's sluggishness. Did you defeat her?"

"Uh, yeah, about that. She kinda took over my body. If it hadn't been for Sammy and your Dean, I wouldn't be here right now,"

"It makes sense that they would come to your rescue. My Dean has a habit of putting himself in danger to save others. It worries me at times. But I'm glad he saved you,"

"Why don't you tell him that to his face?"

Dean sent the other Dean a look like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming bus. Cas seemed to freeze, his hand pressed to his temple. Slowly, his eyes reopened and focused on his lap. Then, after steeling himself, Cas looked up and met Dean's hopeful yet terrified gaze. The air was galvanic between the two – a static buzzing in the small space in front of their faces. When Dean spoke, his voice was soft, like a whisper.

"Hey, Cas,"

"...hello, Dean,"

Castiel tried not to show too much emotion, but even the other Dean could see that he was struggling to keep calm. Dean's pinched expression told the mirrored hunter that he was feeling the same way. Sam came down the stairs and paused as his brother put a finger to his lips curtly. Sam quietly took a few silent steps more so he could peek down at the pair on their couch. His mouth formed a soundless 'oh' as he watched intently.

The angel struggled to sit up and Dean tentatively assisted him with a hand on his shoulder blades. Dean felt something squeeze his other hand and glanced down to find Castiel had grabbed him. Before he had come through the mirror, Dean would have quickly pulled away and brushed it off indifferently. But now...after all that he'd gone through- between the kidnapping of Cas in this world and the battered Cas that he loved so much- he realized that there was no time for defensive tactics.

Cas seemed less startled than Dean originally thought when the hunter squeezed back. Truth be told, he instead looked at him...with an expression that Dean had seen before. It had been the same one on the other Castiel's face when they'd had their talk in the kitchen when he'd first arrived. Cas was drained and physically exhausted but his emotions- ones that Dean himself had helped to surface over the years- were still running strong.

"I've been looking for you...since I got here,"

"Not too hard to find someone as handsome as me,"

"Dean, I'm serious. I have been worried sick about you. When Sam told me that you were gone, I-,"

Dean's chest constricted at the note of agony in his angel's voice. Cas swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. His eyes were stormy with a mixture of anger, misery, and pain. But overlying it all, Dean could see a glinting light that meant that, for Cas, all the crap he'd gone through to get to this moment had been worth it. Because Dean was okay. He was right there in front of him. And Cas had never felt so relieved.

"Cas, you know I would have come back to you. A-and to Sammy. I always find a way, right?"

"But, Dean, this time felt different. Normally, I can sense where you are. I can hear your prayers. When you went through this mirror, I _couldn't feel you anymore_. Do you understand how that affected me?"

Dean took Castiel's face between his hands and forced Cas not to move away. The angel glanced away, ashamed of how bathetic he was being. Frustrated, Dean lightly pressed a kiss to the corner of Cas' mouth. ' _Oh crap. I actually went through with it_ ,' he thought immediately after his lips made contact, ' _Well, too late now'_. Castiel jumped a bit in shock and his incredulous blue gaze returned to look at Dean.

"I'm here now, Cas. Feel my hands. They're real. I'm real. I'm not gonna disappear like some damn Houdini act,"

"Who is Houdini?"

"He's- oh, never mind. I'll show you later. I meant that you're stuck with me. In this dimension or the next. In whatever parallel universe you or I get sucked into, it's always gonna be you and me. And Sam. Team Free Will, remember?"

Cas sighed and leaned into Dean's palm. His eyelids fluttered closed and his lashes tickled Dean's thumbs. Internally, Dean's heart was pounding on overdrive. Had he actually said all that in one breath? And with his counterpart and other Sam listening in?! Mortified, Dean peeked over at them. Both the other Dean and Sam had similar expressions of choked up happiness. It was more embarrassing to look at them than to focus on the situation at hand.

Sam noticed the awkward silence growing steadily and cleared his throat. The other Dean sent him a slight glare at the interruption. Sam awkwardly shifted the comforters in his arms and took the last couple of stairs using clunky steps, making sure to make noise to announce his presence

"I, uh, I got the blankets. Good to see you're awake, Cas,"

"Oh. Thank you, Sam,"

"No problem. Dean- no, not you. I meant my brother-, wanna come check on our Cas with me?"

"Yep. Right behind you. Cas, I'm glad you're doing better,"

"And I'm happy you're not dead,"

"I- thanks,"

After the most awkward exchange ever, the other Sam and Dean vanished into the spare bedroom. Cas and Dean could hear their muffled voices through the door. There was a mildly stifling quietude within the house. Cas turned and smiled over at Dean. And if butterflies didn't spring up and explode in Dean's stomach at that tiny grin, well, he'd be lying.

"And you? Are you alright?"

"Oh. Me? Yeah, I'm good. Hunky dory. No problems here,"

"Dean, relax. I'm not going anywhere either,"

That wasn't the problem, but it comforted Dean nonetheless. He went to get up from the floor- he'd been kneeling for about thirty minutes now- and winced as pain shot like fire throughout his entire body. Cas frowned in concern and Dean almost rolled his eyes; nonchalance was not his strong-point.

"You're hurt," Cas said disapprovingly. He stretched up and placed a hand against Dean's chest. His fingers splayed out just under Dean's sternum and the heel of his palm lightly pressed against the top of his abdomen. A prickling sensation that burned like flames but without the pain rushed through Dean. Goosebumps rose on the skin of his arms and legs while a shiver trailed down his spine.

Dean hadn't realized how much he missed the feeling of Castiel's angelic power. He could literally feel every injury afflicting him stitch up and heal completely. Cas shakily moved his hand away as Dean finished healing. The tips of his fingers slid deftly down Dean's stomach as Cas dropped his hand away. It fell dead-weighted to the couch and Cas huffed out an exhale of breath.

"You okay?"

"Yes. It just...takes me longer to recover my energy after using my grace,"

"I hate that rift,"

"We all do, Dean. But she's dead now. Thanks to you,"

"I didn't kill her. Sam did that. All I did was make sure no one got killed,"

"And that's why she's dead, Dean. Because you kept the people who did commit the deed safe from fatal harm,"

"Yeah, well, anybody could have done that,"

"No. The only person who was capable of successfully protecting the people he considers family...is you, Dean,"

"But I didn't protect everyone! You got hurt, Sam got hurt, the other me got possessed! What the hell did I even do, Cas?"

"You did what you always do: you rushed into battle, without thinking of yourself, but thinking that, if there was anything you could do, you'd use everything in your power to keep the rest of us alive. Even if it meant your own death,"

Dean was speechless. Cas shook his head with a small hum of a chuckle.

"That's one part of you that drives me crazy, in more ways than one,"

"Yeah, well, you'd do the same thing,"

"True, but I would do it with the mindset that, if I were to die, I wouldn't move out of the way. You're different,"

Dean clenched his jaw and, for the first time since Castiel opened his eyes, he was the one to look away. Cas seemed to sense that his friend wanted to drop the subject and wordlessly swung his legs over the side of the couch. He took a moment to calm his panting breaths then looked up at Dean.

"Help me up. I need to heal the others,"

Without speaking a word, Dean complied, aiding the angel to his feet and steadying him as he wobbled. It took a few moments for Cas to regain his equilibrium. His hands gripped onto Dean's upper arms in a vise grip. Dean refrained from wincing. When Cas gave the okay, Dean released him while hovering nearby in case Cas needed him again.

Cas walked over to Charlie and, with a saddened expression, lightly touched her forehead with his forefinger and middle finger. Dean watched as the bruises, cuts, and sickly coloration of the girl's face faded and glowed with health. An unspoken sadness emanated between the two men that were not of that world; this would be the last time they got to see Charlie and she was unconscious for it.

Dean shook his head and gently guided Cas away from the slumbering redhead; if either of them stayed any longer, they would never want to leave. His heart heavy with renewed grief, Cas stumbled a bit on his way to the spare bedroom. Dean immediately took his arm securely, the action causing the angel to smile again.

Dean knocked on the door and the other Sam answered. His expression was grave and Castiel wordlessly mimicked the two finger healing process on Sam. His hazel eyes flew open in surprise as the pain in his face and leg faded away to nothing. Cas' knees buckled beneath him and Sam grabbed hold of his other arm. Together, the Winchesters practically carried Castiel over to his other self.

"Will he be alright to do this, Dean?"

"I think so. He said that it takes him longer to recharge after each energy use,"

"Isn't that dangerous for him?"

"Cas is stronger than he looks, Sam. He'll be alright. He knows his limits,"

Sam's brow furrowed in concern, but he left the subject alone. Castiel sent Dean a grateful look that made the hunter's heart flutter. The other Dean, who had been murmuring softly to his husband, looked up as the trio approached. When Cas lifted his hand to touch the other Dean's forehead, he reared back, shaking his head. His green eyes were soft and his mouth quirked up into a small smirk.

"Thanks, Cas, but I'm fine. When the rift died, her leftover energy healed me right up. 'Sides, I'm not the one you need to be worrying about,"

Cas squinted and glanced over at the other Castiel. He looked so...fragile. Cas was worried that, if he touched him, the other Dean's Cas would shatter. But he knew that he had to make an attempt to at least heal what he could. With that thought in mind, Cas carefully land his hand on his other selves' arm. Closing his eyes, Castiel concentrated hard.

A burst of sudden golden light engulfed both men, causing the Winchesters to cry out at the sudden brightness. Dean peered through his fingers and watched in fascination as the other Castiel was cured of all grotesque injuries. The spot on his head where the hair had been ripped away recovered and his shiny dark brown hair was restored to its rightful place.

It took a mere ten seconds for Cas to be completely healed, but it felt like a lifetime. Eventually, the light faded away and the angel slumped over his counterpart. Dean rushed over and found that Cas was now sleeping peacefully, his lips turned up into a satisfied grin. As Sam and the other Dean gushed tearful 'thank you's, something inside Dean broke and it was like a flood rushing in.

"I'm proud of you, Cas," he whispered into the angel's ear. He barely heard the other Dean claim the need for celebration. Dean didn't pay much attention as the other Sam and Dean helped him carry the sleeping angel back into the living room. He was focused purely on the new feelings bursting within him like a fireworks display. Was this...what he thought it was?

"I'm gonna make burgers,"

"Dean. You're my brother and I love you, but you've been dead for a whole year. Are you sure it's safe to be around a stove?"

"I'm not a damn zombie, Sammy. I still know how to cook,"

And then, abruptly, Dean felt as though he were intruding. Which, of course, he was; this wasn't his. None of this belonged to him. His home was through the mirror. In the other dimension. It was time for him to go. But even with the realization crashing down on him, Dean couldn't bring himself to move from his spot on the couch. Cas nestled into the crook of his neck, his warm breath puffing softly against his collarbone- Dean didn't want to shift a single muscle.

For a split second, Dean allowed himself to believe that everything was normal. He closed his eyes as the scent of hamburgers drifted to him from the kitchen. His head tilted back and rested against the back of the couch. His fingers absently carded through Castiel's hair and Cas pressed closer. Things were finally the way Dean wanted them to be.

Except they weren't. And he knew it. His Sam was back at home, waiting for him. His bunker- his home- was on the other side of the mirror. His Baby was awaiting his return in the garage. His memory foam mattress was practically calling him. The only thing that Dean could even dare to claim his, was the slumbering man beside him.

' _We've overstayed our welcome. It's time to go home_ ,' his subconscious quipped sagely. Dean sighed through his nose, his chest heaving. He almost didn't want to leave; he'd become attached to this world already. However, the hunter within knew that his place wasn't here. It was back in Kansas with Sam and Cas. With _his_ Sam and Cas. But how would he and Cas get home?

Before the weight of that question could settle in, there was a click of a door opening behind him. Swiveling his head around as far as he could, Dean turned and saw a rather disoriented Castiel emerging from the spare bedroom. He looked good as new, if a bit disheveled. He padded out from the room, eyes squinting against the light and blinking away the fatigue.

"Welcome back," Dean croaked, his voice cracking. The other Cas blearily glanced at him and simply stared. It took him roughly five second before Cas stumbled over to Dean and threw his arms around his neck. His hair tickled at Dean's nose and Dean stared hard at the ceiling as he fought the urge to sneeze. Wetness dripped down his bare collarbone and soaked into his shirt; the other Cas was crying.

"Hey, you know I'm not your Dean, right? There's no need to get all mushy over me,"

"I know you're not him. But I'm just as happy to see you. I suppose I have you to thank for saving me?"

"I guess. But I wasn't the one who killed the rift,"

"Then who did?"

"Me,"

Dean and the other Cas both looked up at the other Sam's trembling voice. Cas released Dean and straightened up. The other Sam didn't hesitate as he hurried over to Cas in five strides. He and the other Cas met head-on and hugged almost desperately. Cas had to stretch up a bit to hug Sam, but he didn't mind at all. Sam was sobbing and Cas gently smoothed down his brother-in-law's hair soothingly.

"I'm alright, Sam. I'm okay,"

"We thought you were dead!"

"I know. I thought so, too. For a moment there, I was scared I'd left the house to you. That must've frightened me back to life,"

"Oh, shut up,"

Sam laughed through his tears and pulled away excitedly. Cas didn't know about what had happened and Sam was more than eager to tell him. He hastily wiped at his tears to no avail and Cas stared at him in quizzical amusement. The other Sam opened his mouth to speak but only a squeaky gasp came out. Cas smiled and was about to tell him to calm down when a noise was heard from the kitchen.

"Sammy! Where'd you go? I need your help with the-,"

The other Dean came through the kitchen door with a frustrated look on his face and halted immediately when he saw the other Cas. Dean felt as though he was watching an intense scene of a soap opera. The other Sam looked back at the other Dean with a grin and then down at Cas with a hopeful look. Cas stared at his husband without blinking. His mouth was parted slightly in shock and tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes.

"Sam, is he...?"

"Yeah, Cas, that's really Dean. He's back. Castiel brought him back,"

"C-Castiel? I-I didn't do anything. I don't understand,"

"No, not you. I meant the real world Dean's version of you. He's an angel. He's sleeping right there,"

But the other Cas didn't tear his eyes away from the other Dean. He untangled himself from Sam's embrace and stood still, processing what he was going to do. Then, Cas slowly approached the other Dean, his movements jerky and cautious. As he passed the real Dean, the hunter noticed that his friend was trembling severely. ' _Jeez, he's really worked up over this_ ,' Dean thought.

The other Dean stood as still as a statue. His eyes were warily watching his husband's every step. As the length between them shortened, the other Dean gulped; he was nervous while also filled with so much love and utter joy that he felt he were fit to burst. When Cas was standing in front of him, he anxiously quirked his lips up into a wavering grin.

"Hey, Cas,"

The tears gushed from Castiel's eyes and his lower lip trembled. Still, he did not move. Instead, Cas took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. The other Dean bit his lip and shuffled his feet. A part of him thought that his husband would be angry with him for not coming back sooner and that scared him to death. But Cas did not seem to be mad- rather, he was...hesitant and so full of misery and hope.

"Tell me...tell me that you're real. Tell me this isn't another dream. Tell me that you're not going to disappear when I wake up,"

"I'm real. You're not dreaming. Not this time, baby. Not ever again. I'm really back, Cas. I'm not going anywhere,"

No one moved. Cas' searched his husband's features for any sign of falsity. His blue eyes gazed almost desperately into the other Dean's opposite green. Finally, the other Cas reached out his hands and cupped his husband's face in between his palms. His thumbs traced soft lines along the other Dean's cheekbones. His whole body was trilling with nerves and overwhelming emotion. The other Dean covered Castiel's hands with his and tearfully laughed.

"See? I told you. I'm not going anywhere,"

With a wrenching sob, Cas flung himself into the other Dean's arms and they embraced as though their lives depended on it. The other Dean lifted Cas into the air and twirled him around. When he set him back down on his feet, Dean began to pepper kisses all along Cas' neck and hair. Cas clung to his husband, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of the other Dean's t-shirt.

Dean felt a bit awkward watching the couple, but it was too touching to look away. Cas pulled away just enough to smash his lips against his husband's, all the while weeping hysterically. The other Dean kissed back with such a ferocity, Dean was a bit concerned he'd hurt them both. His counterpart seemed to be on a mission to touch every part of his husband's body he could get to.

Cas was the same way. His hands were harsh, making absolutely sure that the flesh beneath them was actually there. That nothing would take it away again. Eventually, the two broke away and regarded one another with revived excitement. Occasionally, one of them would pepper a series of kisses along the others' knuckles or face or neck. But it was as though neither one wanted to look away from the other in fear that, if they did, one of them would end up vanishing.

"I missed you. I missed you so damn much,"

"I missed you, too, baby,"

"I thought I'd lost you forever,"

"I told you that I'd always come back to you,"

The couple kissed again, this time more softly. It was a tender and intimate moment. Dean found himself looking away in secondhand embarrassment. The other Sam walked over and the three group hugged. And it was in that moment, Dean knew that now was the best time to leave. He stood and carefully positioned Cas back down against the cushions.

The other Winchester family all glanced in his direction and ushered him over. Reluctantly, Dean walked over and the other Sam pulled him into the hug. Warmth surrounded Dean on all sides and the urge to stay returned with a vengeance. He felt so safe in the arms of this family. He never wanted to lose this feeling.

Eventually, the four of them separated and Dean felt the warmth fade. And now Dean really wanted to go home. The knowledge that he was never going to see these versions of his family- wait. And suddenly Dean understood; he could keep this family with him because it was his family! He had his Castiel and he had his Sam. They might not have had a house, but they had a bunker and that was where they called home.

The other Sam looked down at Dean and smiled. When he lightly punched Dean in the arm, Dean shook himself out his thoughts.

"You okay? You looked like you were spacing out there,"

"I'm fine. I just...Cas and I gotta go now,"

All three of the mirrored Winchesters instantly became doleful. They seemed to have forgotten that Dean had to leave. At first, there was only silence as the realization hit hard. The other Cas and Dean closed their eyes to hide how distraught they were, but Dean saw it anyway. And it stung like a bitch. The other Sam swallowed hard and nodded solemnly.

"I guess it's best if we get it over with,"

"Gotta do this fast. Like ripping off a Band-Aid,"

"I wish you could have stayed longer. I wanted to get to know you better,"

"Nah. You've got your own Dean Winchester. I don't think you could handle having another one. Besides, my own pain in the ass little brother is probably missing me like crazy,"

Sam laughed sadly and had to close his mouth to keep from whimpering. The other Cas seemed to be the most upset that Dean had to leave- tears streamed steadily down his cheeks- but he understood. He released his husband and brother-in-law and walked over to where Dean shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. With an affectionate smile, Cas pressed a kiss to Dean's cheek and hugged him tightly. Too surprised to respond, Dean hugged back.

"Thank you so much. You brought my family back to me. I'll never forget you for this," he murmured. When he pulled away, Cas jerked his chin in the angel's direction. "Tell him thanks too, would you? If it wasn't for your Castiel, I might never have gotten my husband back," he said, his voice thick. Dean nodded and Cas turned away, sniffling.

The other Dean glanced up at his other self with a mournful expression and unhurriedly reached into his pocket. A glittering shard of green glass glinted in his palm as he held his hand out. There was the sound of howling wind and a ghostly haze of a mirror appeared a few inches from where Dean stood. With a startled yelp, Dean jumped back. The other Dean plaintively smiled and nodded to his counterpart in silent thanks.

"We're gonna miss you, man. You'll always be remembered,"

The other Sam made his way over last. He stood in front of Dean with an earnest expression. He appeared to be wanting to say something, but the words were lost from the moment he tried to utter them. His hands twitched a bit at his sides. It was Dean who initiated the hug. The other Sam sniffled as he gratefully hugged back. Dean chuckled and roughly patted Sam on the back.

"Don't you cry for me, Sammy. Save them for your real brother,"

"But you have become my brother, you jerk,"

"Yeah, but you should get your snot all over his shoulder, not mine. This is the only shirt I've got, bitch,"

The other Sam laughed and tightened his hold on Dean. After a few minutes, he, too, pulled away. Dean lifted a hand and grabbed a lock of the other Sam's hair. With a mock frown, Dean flicked it up and away from him. Sam rolled his eyes and beamed down at his other brother.

"Say hi to Sam for me!"

"He'll have a hay day with that crap,"

With a sorrowful smile, Dean gathered his Castiel into his arms and stepped towards the portal. He paused and turned back for the final moment. The mirror's Winchesters and Castiel waved and sported farewell smiles. Dean's eyes took in the house he'd never see again and landed on Charlie, who was still unconscious. His heart clenched at the reminder that his Charlie was dead. He glanced over at the other Sam for the last time.

"Take care of her, too, will you? Tell her about what happened here...about me, yeah?"

Sam nodded sincerely. With a single tear running down his cheek, Dean turned and vanished into the mirror. There was a series of flashing lights and the sensation of being lifted high into the air and suddenly dropped at an alarming rate. Then Dean and Castiel were sliding onto the tile of the bunker's library. Sam, who had fallen asleep at one of the tables, awoke with a jolt and sleepily rushed to his brother's side.

"Dean! Cas! You're back! Are you hurt? What happened?"

Dean groaned and lifted a hand to stop Sam's rambling. He smiled wearily and pulled Sam into a hug. At the familiar scent of his younger brother, Dean relaxed and let the loss wash over him. Sam hugged him back, a bit confused but also happy that his older brother was back. There was a low grumble as Castiel sat up, his face scrunched up in sleepy bemusement.

"Are we back?"

"Yeah, Cas, we're back,"

Dean pulled Cas into the hug and, as the portal closed for the final time behind them, he knew that things were going to be different. He was going to keep this warmth, going to keep that wonderful feeling that the mirrored family had given him. Dean was going to be happy. Sam clung to his family and breathed a sigh of relief; finally, after what felt like forever, Dean and Cas returned to him.

"Dean, as much as I enjoy this hug, I can't breathe,"

"Sorry, Cas,"

"You two look like crap,"

"Thanks for that, Sammy. It's nice to see you, bitch,"

"You know you love me, jerk,"

"Yeah, yeah. It's great to be home,"

"Dean, I think Cas fell asleep,"

Sure enough, the angel had slumped against Dean's shoulder and was drifting back into slumber. A soft smile quirked up Dean's mouth and, without thinking, he pressed a kiss against Castiel's forehead. Cas snuggled closer to Dean a little, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Sam, on the other hand, had his jaw dropped open. Dean narrowed his eyes in warning.

"Sam. Don't-,"

"Are you two finally together?"

"We're haven't really- wait, what the hell do you mean by finally?"

"Oh my god! It took you literal years to make a move. It's about damn time you did something about it!"

Dean stared at his brother, his face slack with stupor and disbelief. Had he known all along? Yet it took a whole alternate dimension for Dean himself to realize it?! Dean rubbed a hand down his face tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was too drained for all of this. Dean could deal with the drama later; all he wanted to do was go to bed. His memory foam mattress was calling to him.

"...can't believe it took you so long. This is unbelievable! Oh. I've got to tell everyone. I've got to call Jody and Claire and- holy crap!"

"No, don't you call anybody. I don't even know what this thing is. We're making things up as we go right now. You can't just-,"

But Sam had already scrambled to his feet and was rushing out of the room, his fingers slipping on the buttons of his cellphone. Dean had reached out a hand uselessly to try to stop him and let it fall back down into his lap in defeat. Sam's eager voice could be heard enthusiastically gushing down the hall, growing fainter and fainter as he walked.

Dean rolled his eyes nearly into the back of his head and got to his feet. Cas groggily awoke at the sudden movement and mimicked Dean's actions. Dean took the angel by the hand and, heart beating wildly in his chest, led Cas in the direction of his bedroom. Cas clumsily walked behind him. He would occasionally trip over his feet and Dean would have to steady him.

When they reached Dean's room, they both immediately collapsed onto his bed. Cas seemed to become more aware of what was happening as his head hit the pillow and he peered up at Dean through his lashes. Dean knew that look; Cas felt as though he were overstepping his boundaries and was feeling guilty for it. As he opened his mouth to speak, Dean silenced him by moving closer. Nose to nose, Cas looked at Dean and Dean looked back.

"What are we doing, Dean?"

"Sleeping,"

"No, I meant-,"

"I know what you meant and we can talk more about it tomorrow. Right now, I just wanna sleep with you. I spent far too much time away from you already,"

"But you've told me before about personal space and I'm-,"

"Don't think so much. This is fine with me, Cas. I encourage this. Alright?"

Cas hesitated. Dean felt his skin heat up in embarrassment as a thought popped into his mind. He wasn't sure if he would be completely comfortable with carrying it out; allowing the feelings he'd shoved down for so long to run freely was still nerve-wracking for him. And Dean wasn't sure if Cas would be okay with what he had in mind either. But the idea nagged at him and the urge overpowered his logic.

With a shy expression, Dean leaned forward and was startled to discover Cas doing the same. The two froze and locked eyes. Both were as skittish as colts. In the dark, Dean could see Cas looked down and felt tentative hands on his neck. A tingling sensation prickled the skin where Cas' fingers brushed and suddenly Dean was overcome with need- a demand to close the gap between him and Cas, to ultimately satisfy his urges.

Determined not to flinch away again, Dean cautiously leaned forward and Cas tilted his face up. Their lips were inches apart, close enough to feel the others' breath. Dean felt his stomach knot up in anticipation. Cas' tongue flicked out to lick his lips and Dean found himself surging forward to capture it. Their mouths met in somewhat of a clash and the kiss awkwardly came to be.

They were both too eager and the kiss was sloppy, even hurt a little. Dean scolded himself for being too impulsive and willed himself to calm down. Cas seemed to be doing the same for gradually the kiss became more tender and their lips molded together into a perfect slotted fit. It was sweet and, while the pace had slowed considerably, the passion remained.

Dean slowly brought a hand up and took one of Castiel's. Their fingers entwined and Dean felt Cas smile against his lips. Cas pulled away a tiny bit- their lips only brushing now- and Dean leaned forward to press their foreheads together. Cas gently nosed at Dean's cheek and Dean felt as though his heart might burst.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that,"

"You and me both, buddy,"

"Why now? Why wait so many years if you felt the same?"

"You wanna know the truth?"

"Of course,"

"I was scared,"

"Of me?"

"No. Well, yeah, I guess you. I was afraid of what might happen,"

"You mean what would have happened had I not reciprocated your feelings towards me,"

"Yeah, smartass, that. But after seeing how the other Dean and his Cas interacted...I dunno, I guess I wanted to see if I could have that, too. I feel so stupid for not seeing it earlier,"

"Dean, you're not stupid. You're human. And there is nothing wrong with that,"

"Nothing wrong with being human, huh?"

"Not at all. While I am not human myself, I'd much prefer you than any angel,"

"Hmm. Guess I'll have to get used to that,"

"Yes, you will,"

"And you'll have to get used to this,"

Dean kissed Cas against on his lips and Cas hummed softly. The two pressed closer, their limbs entangling and their bodies flush together. Dean trailed his hands over Castiel's skin and felt a sense of contentment flood over him; this was it. The one thing he'd been searching for and it had been here all along, in the form of his best friend. Cas brushed his fingers through Dean's hair and lightly gripped at the back of his neck. A low moan rumbled from Dean's chest.

"Oh, god. You two aren't going to start having sex, are you? Ugh, I'm gonna have nightmares," Sam's muffled dismayed voice came from outside the door. Dean and Cas pulled away from on another and stared at the door with similar looks of amused mock irritation. Dean laughed loudly and shouted to his brother.

"If you don't wanna hear it, get your ass away from my door!"

"It's a free bunker, Dean! I shouldn't have to avoid a hallway just so you two can do...what...oh my god, I just got a mental picture!"

Dean threw his head back in laughter as the sound of Sam fleeing footsteps. Cas looked absolutely abashed with the whole situation and Dean kissed away the thin line his mouth had formed into. Cas shook his head exasperatedly and kissed back. They settled down after a few more minutes- their kisses shifting to soft, peppering pecks from time to time.

"Night, angel,"

"Goodnight...human,"

Dean chuckled at Cas' slightly confused tone and kissed him once more. He felt Cas relax against him and snuggle closer. For the first time in a long time, Dean was happy. And even though he knew that there was still a lot to discuss and to figure out, in that moment, Dean didn't want to think. As he drifted to sleep with his angel by his side, Dean couldn't help smile.

He might have helped out the other Winchester family, but really it was they who helped him. He gave them what they desired most and they showed Dean his. The battle had been tough and Dean was sure he was going to die several times while in that dimension, but if he had the chance to go back, he would do it all again in a heartbeat. Then again, Dean enjoyed being on his side of the mirror; the real thing really was way better than the reflection.

The End

A/N: Ta da! Finally, it's done. I honestly did not expect to finish this. But thank to you all, I was able to push through it and get it done. I hope you all enjoyed it; I know I did. Love for you all~!


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